When you see a beautiful - or bountiful garden - do you ever think ‘how do they do that'? I have many times, and wondered if I could do that as well, or at least on a smaller scale. Since I've moved to Gunter (that would be almost 2 years now) I've thought about creating a garden. I've thought a long time about where I would put it, but more importantly, how would I go about it successfully? Could it be a large one with many plants that would give me all the food I need to eat? No, I don't really know "how" to do that, yet I've dreamt about it. I would need to start with a small garden, and work up from there. I could envision my just-right garden, and I would place that scene in different places around the farm and evaluate if that would be "the right spot" for my garden that I've imagined for a long time. Then as time went by, "that spot" I picked would be used for other things, or the grass was so green and lush there I could not possibly dig it up. Or a myriad of other reason that don't make sense, so a garden was never created. I simply continued to dream about it.
I was always noticing other people's gardens, and how they did things. In Colorado, when we would visit Lauren there, there were many gardens in the areas I ran or walked by. Surprising for such a cold climate, but really, a garden can be anywhere. I could tell I was getting closer to committing myself to it. But first, I would need to educate myself a little more in regards to starting one, and how to keep it going. I mentioned it to Lauren, and she checked out a couple of books from the library for me (since she is a librarian, it seemed fitting). The first book spoke about "companion gardening". It would explain that different plants planted close to each other would contribute to the soil viability, assist each other in their growth, and help repel insects from one another. That is an intriguing and fascinating aspect I had not considered. The other book was a week-by-week handbook to assist me in the creation of the garden and when to plant what. I needed that information, and combed through it in order to create a garden so that much of the initial work would eliminate extra work later on down the line. As easy as it would be to throw a garden together, I decided I would try to play by the (garden) rules and do as the experts would recommend. My thumb is not all that green, so it's in my best interest to listen, read and learn about how to do this.
It was during this period of time that I mentioned to David that I would like a garden bed. A real bed to place out in the designated area and hold my garden. It's a perfect scenario for me because it's a rectangle, and is just the right size to hold my first attempt at gardening. So one day, David brought home a metal twin size bed frame that would become the base for a garden. The headboard and footboard were both of a swirly metal design that could also be used for climbing plants, maybe even my tomatoes. David worked hard to put it together, along with a wood frame that would hold the dirt and plants in. He created a beautiful shell for me to begin my work of tilling the soil and taking the grass out.
Now with my bed in place, I was ready to put to use all the words I had read. It was odd having a bed frame in your yard, outside of your house. We strategically placed it so that it was behind/on the side of the house whereby it would get lots of sun, and not everyone might see it right away. It was in a place whereby I could garden quietly, away from the animals who might dig or eat it. It would be my Secret Garden. The gardening book had suggested you size your first garden by the amount of space you are willing to initially till by hand. That way, you are more likely to be able to handle the future needs of your garden. The twin bed frame David picked was perfect! I dug out all the grass inside the frame, and tilled it by hand. I desired not to do anymore than that size, as it was more work than I realized. Gardening is not for the weary, it's real work.
After I dug it out, my canvas of a blank rectangle was ready. Abiding by my new gardening book guidelines, I lined my bed with netting to keep out the things I don't want (weeds, grass, etc), and keep in the things I do want (my dirt, etc). I have a handy-dandy staple gun that I use for everything, and it worked perfectly to staple the netting to the border of the wood frame. Nice. Now, this magical book suggested I put down small gravel rocks or mulch as a bottom layer before you put in the dirt for drainage purpose, as well as a deterrent for weeds and such. You can cut small X's or poke small holes in the netting if you want, to allow for roots or worms/bugs to come and go. So I did small holes. Then, I spread the mulch down on top of the netting. Now, the dirt was next. I had bought 5 or 6 bags of dirt (2 cubic feet/bag) and it filled the bed nicely. It looked so pretty. But the chickens thought so too. Oh dear, I need a fence, and we have portable fencing around, so I quickly set that up. Much better, as between the dogs wanting to dig in the fresh dirt, the cats wanting to potty in it and the chickens wanting to scratch around in it, the fence truly is a necessity. Luckily, David and I have fencing around that we use to set up (intermittently) for farm animal purposes, and usually have extra pieces around.
The initial work of getting this part done was rewarding, because now I'm ready to plant something. This is where it got a little overwhelming. Do I plant fruits, vegetables, herbs, flowers? I decided my first garden would include vegetables. I'll start with that, and see how I do. Since I did not sow my seedlings, I choose to buy the plants that are already sprouted and ready to be planted. Easy enough, as I had made a list of what might be 1) hearty, 2) easy, 3) readily available, and 4) most likely to live despite what I might (or might not) do. I choose tomatoes, leaf lettuce, zucchini, broccoli, mild jalapeños, red bell peppers and banana peppers. I heard peppers are relatively prolific, and I would likely eat them, too. That's a big part of all of this. I wanted to plant things I would eat, and hopefully can figure out the timing of it all, so I have produce available throughout the year. Planting the proper vegetable at the right time is key. This is a learn-as-I go kind of thing, and I have a huge learning curve to climb. Thankfully, I'm starting with a small garden and can use different seasons to try out different plants. Crop rotation is a thing, I hear, so I'll be figuring that out as I go as well.
As I spoke with others around me (at work, friends) I readily hear how people desire to have a garden. And most people like myself think about it, but never create one. That was me, too. It is a commitment, so I understand the thought process behind it. Besides the initial work of setting it up properly, my biggest fear was failure to thrive. Brene Brown, my most favorite author/researcher says, "Failure can become our most powerful path to learning if we're willing to choose courage over comfort." David reminded me of this quote recently. It's so true. Embracing failure is no easy task, avoiding it is. Something as simple as creating and maintaining a garden is a good example for me, in regards to possible failure. Would I sustain it? Would I know how much water it needs, and did I plant it in the correct soil with a pH needed to allow my plants to thrive? It was good for me to face my fear, and have some self-compassion for myself that it would all be okay, no matter what. I don't know much about planting, growing and the needs to support plant life. I know the very basics, but I can't assume that's enough for a real garden. Now that I have completed this process, I wait. I water, and I watch. The fence is doing it's job, and the garden is safe. For now, as it may attract other undesirable creatures when produce really starts growing (I hope). There's so many unknowns, and I love that. I love the learning that will occur, and I love hearing other people's tips and tricks.
All the while, I couldn't help but reflect on the gardens I saw in Colorado. Every one had something I wanted. Fairy doors. Yes, it's true, I love Fairy Doors. And now, I have the perfect opportunity to put a couple of them out, on the outside of my garden frame bed. I picked a round hobbit-style one and a regular wooden-looking garden fairy door and strategically placed them so that they would "open" into my garden through the wooden base around it. The 10 year old inside of me still exists, and sneaks out every now and then to play.
Another necessity was the need to label my plants in the garden. I chose to do this inexpensively by purchasing short wooden stakes and spray paint them to add a little sparkle to my garden. I picked bright pink, another 10 year old decision. After they dried, I wrote (with a black sharpie) the name of each plant on a stake, and placed them in my garden so I will know which plants are which.
Now, I wait. After a few days, I can already tell the outcome will not be 100%. A few plants are looking a little peak-id, like maybe I watered them too much or they don't like the wind. Something that's not making them happy, but yet I don't know how to fix it or if I can. Maybe they need time to adjust to their new environment. Yeah, that's it. They just need time.
As spring is upon us, the grass (and weeds) are growing making the pasture so very green again. Our sheep are loving their new grazing options, and "ask" for grain less often. Mama and Papa donkey are enjoying the fresh grass as well, and act like lovebirds. They adore each other. The dogs love laying in the cool grass, and the chickens are eating every bug they can find. Everyone is busy doing their spring thing. The purple martins are starting to show up, and their nesting boxes up by the pond have been cleaned out and are ready for a new season (thank you, David!). We noticed an addition of a new duck on the pond, and the killdeer birds are looking for their potential egg-laying spots along the gravel road. How those eggs ever survive is something I still marvel over. These birds seem to do more running than flying, and are fun to watch how they try to deter you from their nest/eggs. Since my parents are "birders", it seems I must have some genetic component as well.
UPDATE: I had blogged about Baby (Pickles) new family/new home a few weeks ago. This past Sunday, I received a text from Donna (adoptive mom) saying that Baby was doing great! He's adjusting just fine, and they love and adore him. They sent me a picture of him, and he looks so independent and strong on his own. He's in charge of not only protecting a particular area (instinctual) but he's also a companion for those horses he's with. My heart is so happy that he can be his authentic self and live his best life. There's nothing better than that! He has so much potential, and it's wonderful to know he's doing so well.
Here's to longer daylight hours which equates to more eggs,
Cyndi
Thursday, March 15, 2018
Friday, March 9, 2018
Let me introduce you
Home Sweet Home. That's how I ended my last blogpost and I'm still feeling it. It's sweet whenever I get home, and it's because of many reason of which I'll share a few here.
Our animals are our loves. For those who ask me what it's like to start the day off going to the barn (in the cold, or rain, etc) and what a chore that might be and how hard it is to get up early enough to include that in your morning, I say: It feeds my soul. It calms me, and reminds me of what life is really about.
As we continue to right-size here on the Graves Farm, we have gotten to a comfortable holding position. Our two donkeys Mama and Papa are enjoying their time together more than ever. Sometimes I think they replicate David and I. They are in love, and love each other. They are so bonded with each other, yet are able to do their own thing and be themselves.
We have three sheep/lambs, yet the combination of who we have has slightly changed. Belle and Eve are our 1 year old ewes, and we now have Sam, a 3 month old lamb-ram who was bottle-fed (like Belle was). Sam The Ram will ultimately mate with Belle and Eve to hopefully give us a couple of new lambs, when he's old enough to do so. Until then, the dynamics of this herd is fun to watch. Belle is easy going, loves to be loved, comes when you call her, and is excited to see us just like your dog would be. She knows what she wants and lets you know. Eve is our ewe we bought from a farm that was a triplet who was the third-wheel and literal outcast who got just enough nutrition to stay with her mama in the pasture. Her small stature when she was young, due to less feedings from her mama-ewe, has developed into a full-size sheep whose healthy and happy. And tame. She loves to be brushed, and will stand there all day while you do so. She's the herd leader, and our "beauty" of the bunch. Sam is small and growing rapidly! He's exerting his will in the group in regard to his fair-share of feed and love. He, like Belle, wants to be touched and petted at every opportunity. He calls out to us when he sees us, and is cute-as-a-button. He's a perfect addition to the herd. Cotton was a ewe in our herd of which we traded for a sheep-debt we owed the local feed store for "giving us Belle at 1 day old". Our barter deal at the time was that we would give him Belle's first baby, and we would take Belle and raise her and keep her. Instead of giving him a lamb, we gave him Cotton. He was really just looking to replace a lamb with a lamb, and welcomed Cotton because she could start breeding for him immediately. So Cotton lives a couple of miles away at Preston Trails Feed Store and we get to see her when we go there for feed, etc. We in turn wanted to breed Belle and Eve, which is why we purchased Sam. So we are back to three sheep. It's a herd full of love. They are all tame and friendly towards people. They welcome you to step into their pen and brush them, and of course, give them treats.
CatLand has not changed since we last spoke. Our community of cats is amazing. They get along, they have clicks, they do their thing, and they are everywhere. There's Kitty, Finn, Fi, June Bug, July, Preston, Sweet Pea, and Smokey. Smokey and Sweet Pea are best buds. Fi rarely "shows" herself to others. Preston has colitis. June Bug is my heart. Finn is Lauren's cat who we acquired when she moved, and is one of the most adventurous "in-door turned out-door" cats we have. July is the boss, and is the true boy of the bunch (yes, they are all neutered or spayed though). We also have some stray cats who lurk around the barn and garage area. Boots and Blackie are often seen and not heard. They are fine here, and don't bother anyone - or any chickens - thank goodness. Just not sure where they came from, but exist on our cat food and water. We welcome them.
Our chickens are another story. What started out a few years ago with a flock of 2, and it's now a flock of 14. To recap, Ginger and Butterscotch are two of our Rhode Island Reds and our first chickens ever. They are the lead hens, and everyone bows to them and knows they are silently in charge. They are not aggressive, just strong women. Then, we added 2 Plymouth Rocks (Pebbles and Pepper) and 2 Orpington's (Sunshine and Butter). They transitioned into the flock well, and then we had 6. After that, we accidentally got two roosters who live elsewhere now. The Sheriff (David) does not allow roosters on the farm. Then, I bought two unknown, but a beautiful breed of chickens, who we named Peaches and Cream. They joined the flock wonderfully as well. The addition of any chickens here on the farm have all been very smooth and easy for the most part. Adding new chickens to a existing flock can be difficult, from what I hear. So far, we have had great success with transitioning chickens into our community. We have a process we use, and it starts with isolating the "new" chickens in a cage/coop near the others who are free-ranging. With time, and depending on our intuition, we analyze when to allow them to join the flock to free-range. There's a period of time where the pecking order is apparent, then before we know it, it's smooth sailing, and everyone settles in.
Okay, so that makes a total of 8 chickens up to that point. Then, we had a friend (who lives in Celina) that had a flock of chickens of her own. Turns out, predators ended up 'getting' her chickens over time and she was left with one. She decided to move, and at that time asked us to take her one last chicken she had. It was is a Rhode Island Red, as well, and according to our friend, the chicken (hen) is a "bit bossy". Turns out, she was right. We incorporated her chicken as we normally do, in a fenced area near the flock. The bossy chicken, who we named Ruby, fought (through the fence!) any chicken that approached it. Well, she lost, and succumbed to the pecking order of the group. Once we did let her out to officially join the group, she fit in perfectly. Ruby actually loves being petted and is sweet natured. It just took her a few days to find her place in the flock. All the chickens love her now, and so do we. Then, it happened. I saw two Polish chickens for sale at a local feed store. Have you seen a Polish chicken? OMGoodness. Fancy, I say. Poofy feathered heads, smooth body feathers. It's as if they are a chicken wearing a fancy hat. I fell hard for them. There were two, one white and one tan (we named them Sugar and Spice). I'll take them! And so I did. In a previous blog, I wrote about us losing one of them to Merrick's disease. And we were left with one lonely Polish chicken (Spice), as those two were best friends. It is heart breaking to see any animal suffer. It was our first chicken loss, and was a learning experience for us. In the meantime, after Sugar passed, Spice was not wanting to blend in with the flock. Everyone got along, but she would not participate in free ranging or sleeping with them. It was then I knew we would need to get her a new friend.
I started looking around for a Polish chicken to buy, but it wasn't as easy as I had thought. I did find a similar breed, Silkie chickens, more readily available to buy. The silkie is also a fancy chicken with a poofy head, but also with super-soft feathers, feathered feet and just a all-around attractive breed. They are a small (bantam) breed and lay the tiniest eggs. I drove all they way to Burleson to go buy one, and it just so happened it was a white one. Really, I could not have planned this better. I passed on the name Sugar to her, and she blended right in with our flock (she's 6 months old) and become best buddies with Spice. Now, Sugar and Spice free range together. She was meant to be with us......and Spice. Those two do free range, but seem to be perfectly content with hanging out in the barn together as well. They are much smaller than all my other chickens (even grown up) and are the "lap dog" of chickens. Therefore, I must get more. And I did. I found a Silkie breeder not far from my house! I went and bought 3 more Silkies who are 3 weeks old, and super tiny. They live in a cage in the house until they are fully feathered and can go out to the barn. We named one GiGi, one Freckles and the last one we have yet to name. Now, we have 14 chickens! I'm super excited about that. I am a chicken lady. A sheep lady. A donkey lady. A cat lady for sure.
While walking around the other day, filling water buckets, and doing things around the barn is when it hit me. This is where I'm meant to be. Exactly where I'm supposed to be. I thank God for allowing me this opportunity to find my place in life. I have never been so settled, so content and so happy.
Another new, yet unexpected, addition on the farm are a couple of ducks living at our pond. This is the first time this has happened since we've lived here. I don't know much about ducks and how they decided to take up residence, but I'll need to look into that. And with spring coming, so are the Purple Martin's that will nest in the birdhouses we have up at the pond, high in the air. Those wonderful birds eat flying insects and keep our mosquitos at bay for us. So many "spring" things happening. The rye grass is booming, the weather is mild, and it's easy to stay outside and enjoy all that is around us.
The weekends may never seem long enough, but I always enjoy every minute of them.
Happy Stay-Home Day! (that's what Lauren used to call Saturday's and Sunday's when she was a little girl. "Is it a stay-home day, Mommy?" she would ask.) And a Stay-Home day is always the best kind of day,
Cyndi
Our animals are our loves. For those who ask me what it's like to start the day off going to the barn (in the cold, or rain, etc) and what a chore that might be and how hard it is to get up early enough to include that in your morning, I say: It feeds my soul. It calms me, and reminds me of what life is really about.
As we continue to right-size here on the Graves Farm, we have gotten to a comfortable holding position. Our two donkeys Mama and Papa are enjoying their time together more than ever. Sometimes I think they replicate David and I. They are in love, and love each other. They are so bonded with each other, yet are able to do their own thing and be themselves.
We have three sheep/lambs, yet the combination of who we have has slightly changed. Belle and Eve are our 1 year old ewes, and we now have Sam, a 3 month old lamb-ram who was bottle-fed (like Belle was). Sam The Ram will ultimately mate with Belle and Eve to hopefully give us a couple of new lambs, when he's old enough to do so. Until then, the dynamics of this herd is fun to watch. Belle is easy going, loves to be loved, comes when you call her, and is excited to see us just like your dog would be. She knows what she wants and lets you know. Eve is our ewe we bought from a farm that was a triplet who was the third-wheel and literal outcast who got just enough nutrition to stay with her mama in the pasture. Her small stature when she was young, due to less feedings from her mama-ewe, has developed into a full-size sheep whose healthy and happy. And tame. She loves to be brushed, and will stand there all day while you do so. She's the herd leader, and our "beauty" of the bunch. Sam is small and growing rapidly! He's exerting his will in the group in regard to his fair-share of feed and love. He, like Belle, wants to be touched and petted at every opportunity. He calls out to us when he sees us, and is cute-as-a-button. He's a perfect addition to the herd. Cotton was a ewe in our herd of which we traded for a sheep-debt we owed the local feed store for "giving us Belle at 1 day old". Our barter deal at the time was that we would give him Belle's first baby, and we would take Belle and raise her and keep her. Instead of giving him a lamb, we gave him Cotton. He was really just looking to replace a lamb with a lamb, and welcomed Cotton because she could start breeding for him immediately. So Cotton lives a couple of miles away at Preston Trails Feed Store and we get to see her when we go there for feed, etc. We in turn wanted to breed Belle and Eve, which is why we purchased Sam. So we are back to three sheep. It's a herd full of love. They are all tame and friendly towards people. They welcome you to step into their pen and brush them, and of course, give them treats.
CatLand has not changed since we last spoke. Our community of cats is amazing. They get along, they have clicks, they do their thing, and they are everywhere. There's Kitty, Finn, Fi, June Bug, July, Preston, Sweet Pea, and Smokey. Smokey and Sweet Pea are best buds. Fi rarely "shows" herself to others. Preston has colitis. June Bug is my heart. Finn is Lauren's cat who we acquired when she moved, and is one of the most adventurous "in-door turned out-door" cats we have. July is the boss, and is the true boy of the bunch (yes, they are all neutered or spayed though). We also have some stray cats who lurk around the barn and garage area. Boots and Blackie are often seen and not heard. They are fine here, and don't bother anyone - or any chickens - thank goodness. Just not sure where they came from, but exist on our cat food and water. We welcome them.
Our chickens are another story. What started out a few years ago with a flock of 2, and it's now a flock of 14. To recap, Ginger and Butterscotch are two of our Rhode Island Reds and our first chickens ever. They are the lead hens, and everyone bows to them and knows they are silently in charge. They are not aggressive, just strong women. Then, we added 2 Plymouth Rocks (Pebbles and Pepper) and 2 Orpington's (Sunshine and Butter). They transitioned into the flock well, and then we had 6. After that, we accidentally got two roosters who live elsewhere now. The Sheriff (David) does not allow roosters on the farm. Then, I bought two unknown, but a beautiful breed of chickens, who we named Peaches and Cream. They joined the flock wonderfully as well. The addition of any chickens here on the farm have all been very smooth and easy for the most part. Adding new chickens to a existing flock can be difficult, from what I hear. So far, we have had great success with transitioning chickens into our community. We have a process we use, and it starts with isolating the "new" chickens in a cage/coop near the others who are free-ranging. With time, and depending on our intuition, we analyze when to allow them to join the flock to free-range. There's a period of time where the pecking order is apparent, then before we know it, it's smooth sailing, and everyone settles in.
Okay, so that makes a total of 8 chickens up to that point. Then, we had a friend (who lives in Celina) that had a flock of chickens of her own. Turns out, predators ended up 'getting' her chickens over time and she was left with one. She decided to move, and at that time asked us to take her one last chicken she had. It was is a Rhode Island Red, as well, and according to our friend, the chicken (hen) is a "bit bossy". Turns out, she was right. We incorporated her chicken as we normally do, in a fenced area near the flock. The bossy chicken, who we named Ruby, fought (through the fence!) any chicken that approached it. Well, she lost, and succumbed to the pecking order of the group. Once we did let her out to officially join the group, she fit in perfectly. Ruby actually loves being petted and is sweet natured. It just took her a few days to find her place in the flock. All the chickens love her now, and so do we. Then, it happened. I saw two Polish chickens for sale at a local feed store. Have you seen a Polish chicken? OMGoodness. Fancy, I say. Poofy feathered heads, smooth body feathers. It's as if they are a chicken wearing a fancy hat. I fell hard for them. There were two, one white and one tan (we named them Sugar and Spice). I'll take them! And so I did. In a previous blog, I wrote about us losing one of them to Merrick's disease. And we were left with one lonely Polish chicken (Spice), as those two were best friends. It is heart breaking to see any animal suffer. It was our first chicken loss, and was a learning experience for us. In the meantime, after Sugar passed, Spice was not wanting to blend in with the flock. Everyone got along, but she would not participate in free ranging or sleeping with them. It was then I knew we would need to get her a new friend.
I started looking around for a Polish chicken to buy, but it wasn't as easy as I had thought. I did find a similar breed, Silkie chickens, more readily available to buy. The silkie is also a fancy chicken with a poofy head, but also with super-soft feathers, feathered feet and just a all-around attractive breed. They are a small (bantam) breed and lay the tiniest eggs. I drove all they way to Burleson to go buy one, and it just so happened it was a white one. Really, I could not have planned this better. I passed on the name Sugar to her, and she blended right in with our flock (she's 6 months old) and become best buddies with Spice. Now, Sugar and Spice free range together. She was meant to be with us......and Spice. Those two do free range, but seem to be perfectly content with hanging out in the barn together as well. They are much smaller than all my other chickens (even grown up) and are the "lap dog" of chickens. Therefore, I must get more. And I did. I found a Silkie breeder not far from my house! I went and bought 3 more Silkies who are 3 weeks old, and super tiny. They live in a cage in the house until they are fully feathered and can go out to the barn. We named one GiGi, one Freckles and the last one we have yet to name. Now, we have 14 chickens! I'm super excited about that. I am a chicken lady. A sheep lady. A donkey lady. A cat lady for sure.
While walking around the other day, filling water buckets, and doing things around the barn is when it hit me. This is where I'm meant to be. Exactly where I'm supposed to be. I thank God for allowing me this opportunity to find my place in life. I have never been so settled, so content and so happy.
Another new, yet unexpected, addition on the farm are a couple of ducks living at our pond. This is the first time this has happened since we've lived here. I don't know much about ducks and how they decided to take up residence, but I'll need to look into that. And with spring coming, so are the Purple Martin's that will nest in the birdhouses we have up at the pond, high in the air. Those wonderful birds eat flying insects and keep our mosquitos at bay for us. So many "spring" things happening. The rye grass is booming, the weather is mild, and it's easy to stay outside and enjoy all that is around us.
The weekends may never seem long enough, but I always enjoy every minute of them.
Happy Stay-Home Day! (that's what Lauren used to call Saturday's and Sunday's when she was a little girl. "Is it a stay-home day, Mommy?" she would ask.) And a Stay-Home day is always the best kind of day,
Cyndi
Sunday, March 4, 2018
Summing It Up
I suppose one thing about any mission-oriented trip is the assumption that everyone attending has similar intentions. On our particular trip, we met many people who certainly desired to help others, as well as those around them. We all came from varied backgrounds, yet like-minded in our goals for the week. Just as we do with anything else we start, there is a fizzle-factor as time goes on. You start things off with a bang, and then, well, you know. The assistance the Hondurans need is like a bucket you cannot fill up. And here are 60 volunteers, ready to rock-n-roll. I met volunteer families that were "all-in" all week. I met doctors that could use any utensil in surgery to correct any abnormality, and were not only quick-witted but quick at thinking on their feet. Literally. I met couples whereby one of them had convinced the other one this trip was a good idea. There were people of all sorts in this group. And I can safely say I am just as quirky as the person next to me. And as I begin to look around during the week in Honduras, I could see it as if it were a movie. Or better yet, a reality show. People forming clicks and connections. Others reserved and biding their time through the week. There was "one" of everyone there, with each person finding their spot on the Helpful Scale. Luckily no one was judging anyone. People may be observant of what was happening around them, but each person let the other "paddle their own canoe". This mission was a chosen endeavor, not a required course in college. There was no grade given for participation. There was no one standing around to make sure everyone participated equally. It was great, as each person contributed to their own desire or capacity. Some people held strong the whole week, while others fell victim to the fizzle-favor. But that's what it's like being with 60 people for 7 days on this mission trip in Honduras.
The one thing I am unable to speak about at great length was the Children's Home(s) on the ranch. The original intention along with the surgery center work, was to have activities for the children such that the volunteers could participate. This was accessible to more of the general volunteers than the clinical volunteers due to the time spent at the surgery center. We did have a little time here and there for the children, which was very nice. It was intriguing to see how it all operates. There are homes for the children based on their ages and gender, with staff that cares for them. (I later found out the ranch has approximately 200 employees.) They start doing chores from a young age, around 2 years old. They give them brooms to sweep, even machetes to cut the grass with. Well, maybe not the 2 year olds. But the children learn at a young age how to perform many tasks, and are given the opportunity to do them, even if it means they do the chore without success. It's the practice and participation that counts. With time, they can sweep, and they can cut the grass with a machete. They go to school, and after school, there are chores to do. They do get play time, and it appears one of their favorite things to do is play soccer. They are not good at it. They are great at it! In their flip-flops, they move, run, kick, and chase the soccer ball like they are on a professional team. There were a couple of opportunities for the volunteers to play soccer with the children and those that did got their butts kicked, or at least a good workout. The children eat dinner together, they help each other, and have many activities during the week. Many things from singing to making crafts for the gift shop to sports outside in the beautiful weather. The children stay busy, and you don't see them out free-ranging. They are kept close, monitored and watched for their safety, and well-loved by the staff. It's a family. Their family, and it's what they know. Being inside the ranch gate is almost like being in another country. One of opportunity, hard work and love.
So as the week went on, I can tell you what I did, and what David did. Well, maybe not all David did, because he was busy in his own world while I was at the surgery center. I was an OR RN circulating surgery cases each day. David, as a general volunteer, would sign up for his "chosen" duty as the other volunteers did each evening. I say David would sign up, but instead, he would wait for everyone to sign up and take the chore(s) that were left for himself. As you can imagine, it would be the least appealing work to do. He did his fair share of shoveling poop on the farm and taking the trash up the hill to the incinerator to be burned. Now, so did others, don't get me wrong. I remember one teenage young man who did trash duty several times that week, too. The trash is not just trash. It's surgery center trash full of unspeakable things to be carried in trash bags that may leak on you as it's being carried up the hill. It's not pleasant, yet work that has to be done. As the week went on, one of David's early morning duties that he took on as his own (it was not on the list) was to make coffee for everyone, each day. There was a large coffee pot provided to the volunteers, with the notion that "someone" would make coffee in it. So, David would wake up around 3 and start the coffee, as the coffee pot took 30 minutes for it to brew. Then, he would make Round 2 of coffee after all of that was consumed. The volunteers never ran out of coffee during the week. They could simply walk out of their rooms and boom, there's coffee. (Which I loved!) Then off they would go to their appropriate work places for the morning. The general volunteer's jobs each day could be different in the morning than in the afternoon. Most every day, David would head into the kitchen and work with the 3 kitchen spanish-speaking staff workers to assist them. He would cut, prepare and cook food at their discretion, and then wash and clean the dishes. They grew to love him and trust him. David would take a portion of the food down to the surgery center for them to have. And any other duty they would like him to do. He liked having this regular time in the morning doing these things, before he went to his other job duties that day. He's comfortable in the kitchen, and these three women came to rely on him. And David enjoyed his time there each morning.
I'll fast forward a bit because as I write this, it seems very mundane. Cooking, cleaning, and general not-fun work that David did for the week. This was other people's plight as well. Many volunteers did things they may not normally do in their daily life, yet they were all-in and worked hard.
Then, it happened. It's Friday night and the week of work is done. We all had our last dinner together before we are all to leave Honduras the following morning. Everyone is relieved, exhausted, excited, rejuvenated, and enjoying this last dinner. The room is filled with laughter, constant chatter, fun energy with everyone reflecting on the events of the past week. We eat dinner as we usually do, and the last presentation begins. The thank-you's, the shout-out's, and formal words of closure, a few more funny accolades were given and then a final award is to be given. The gentleman giving the award is going on and on about "this person" who everyone has raved about all week. He says when he asked each volunteer, that this name came up each time, of who was the most giving. And that "this person" would have their name placed on a plaque on the wall, with those who have followed before them (as he was holding up this particular plaque). I confess that while this was happening, David and I were talking nonsense about something funny that had happened, all the while this gentleman was about to announce "this person". And the winner of the award goes to (based on all the volunteers input) is DRUM-ROLL........David Graves! Well, since David and I were not paying full attention to this presentation and were in-our-own-world, we both looked like deer in headlights saying whaaaaaat, all the while everyone turned to look at us. The clapping ensued and David hesitantly stood up and began walking to the front of the room. The clapping turned into one person standing up, then another, then everyone. David's face was priceless, as he stood at the front of the room accepting his award. He had gone on this mission trip with no one knowing anything about him, nor what he does for a living or with any credentials. Just David who's there to help - not just the Honduran people, but the volunteers as well.
And that's basically how our trip ended. David says he got that award because he made coffee. Everybody loves coffee, right? It's a good example of how doing something so simple for others can trump all the complex things happening around you. Just so you know, David makes a mean cup of coffee. Absolutely delicious.
Side note: I knew David was more compassionate and caring than I was when I married him. I've kidded about that for about 30 years now. He's modest and flies under the radar. But the mission trip people caught onto him, and made sure he knew he was appreciated for his wonderful, kind and considerate self. I was happy for him, and happy to be with him. (I've got a lot to live up to to keep up with him.)
So as my final blog for our Honduras trip comes to a close, I continue to reflect and appreciate many things about it. What I hold nearest to my heart is the nature of the Honduran people. Their spirit, their resilience, and their composure. They stay strong in their struggles, and are brave when they are afraid. Their gratitude is infinite, and I am inspired by them. It was a privilege to be a part of this endeavor. The most common question I get is, "Will you go back?". I imagine we may, as well as look for other trips to contribute to. We really don't know yet, and trust that God will place us as He intends. The faith and trust we have will guide us.
Until then, we continue living our life, doing our thing. Reminiscing over it all, reflecting and moving to chapters in our lives we have no idea about. We have aquired several new farm animals in the short time we've been back home. And I can't wait to tell you all about it! I am where I'm supposed to be.
Home Sweet Home,
Cyndi
The one thing I am unable to speak about at great length was the Children's Home(s) on the ranch. The original intention along with the surgery center work, was to have activities for the children such that the volunteers could participate. This was accessible to more of the general volunteers than the clinical volunteers due to the time spent at the surgery center. We did have a little time here and there for the children, which was very nice. It was intriguing to see how it all operates. There are homes for the children based on their ages and gender, with staff that cares for them. (I later found out the ranch has approximately 200 employees.) They start doing chores from a young age, around 2 years old. They give them brooms to sweep, even machetes to cut the grass with. Well, maybe not the 2 year olds. But the children learn at a young age how to perform many tasks, and are given the opportunity to do them, even if it means they do the chore without success. It's the practice and participation that counts. With time, they can sweep, and they can cut the grass with a machete. They go to school, and after school, there are chores to do. They do get play time, and it appears one of their favorite things to do is play soccer. They are not good at it. They are great at it! In their flip-flops, they move, run, kick, and chase the soccer ball like they are on a professional team. There were a couple of opportunities for the volunteers to play soccer with the children and those that did got their butts kicked, or at least a good workout. The children eat dinner together, they help each other, and have many activities during the week. Many things from singing to making crafts for the gift shop to sports outside in the beautiful weather. The children stay busy, and you don't see them out free-ranging. They are kept close, monitored and watched for their safety, and well-loved by the staff. It's a family. Their family, and it's what they know. Being inside the ranch gate is almost like being in another country. One of opportunity, hard work and love.
So as the week went on, I can tell you what I did, and what David did. Well, maybe not all David did, because he was busy in his own world while I was at the surgery center. I was an OR RN circulating surgery cases each day. David, as a general volunteer, would sign up for his "chosen" duty as the other volunteers did each evening. I say David would sign up, but instead, he would wait for everyone to sign up and take the chore(s) that were left for himself. As you can imagine, it would be the least appealing work to do. He did his fair share of shoveling poop on the farm and taking the trash up the hill to the incinerator to be burned. Now, so did others, don't get me wrong. I remember one teenage young man who did trash duty several times that week, too. The trash is not just trash. It's surgery center trash full of unspeakable things to be carried in trash bags that may leak on you as it's being carried up the hill. It's not pleasant, yet work that has to be done. As the week went on, one of David's early morning duties that he took on as his own (it was not on the list) was to make coffee for everyone, each day. There was a large coffee pot provided to the volunteers, with the notion that "someone" would make coffee in it. So, David would wake up around 3 and start the coffee, as the coffee pot took 30 minutes for it to brew. Then, he would make Round 2 of coffee after all of that was consumed. The volunteers never ran out of coffee during the week. They could simply walk out of their rooms and boom, there's coffee. (Which I loved!) Then off they would go to their appropriate work places for the morning. The general volunteer's jobs each day could be different in the morning than in the afternoon. Most every day, David would head into the kitchen and work with the 3 kitchen spanish-speaking staff workers to assist them. He would cut, prepare and cook food at their discretion, and then wash and clean the dishes. They grew to love him and trust him. David would take a portion of the food down to the surgery center for them to have. And any other duty they would like him to do. He liked having this regular time in the morning doing these things, before he went to his other job duties that day. He's comfortable in the kitchen, and these three women came to rely on him. And David enjoyed his time there each morning.
I'll fast forward a bit because as I write this, it seems very mundane. Cooking, cleaning, and general not-fun work that David did for the week. This was other people's plight as well. Many volunteers did things they may not normally do in their daily life, yet they were all-in and worked hard.
Then, it happened. It's Friday night and the week of work is done. We all had our last dinner together before we are all to leave Honduras the following morning. Everyone is relieved, exhausted, excited, rejuvenated, and enjoying this last dinner. The room is filled with laughter, constant chatter, fun energy with everyone reflecting on the events of the past week. We eat dinner as we usually do, and the last presentation begins. The thank-you's, the shout-out's, and formal words of closure, a few more funny accolades were given and then a final award is to be given. The gentleman giving the award is going on and on about "this person" who everyone has raved about all week. He says when he asked each volunteer, that this name came up each time, of who was the most giving. And that "this person" would have their name placed on a plaque on the wall, with those who have followed before them (as he was holding up this particular plaque). I confess that while this was happening, David and I were talking nonsense about something funny that had happened, all the while this gentleman was about to announce "this person". And the winner of the award goes to (based on all the volunteers input) is DRUM-ROLL........David Graves! Well, since David and I were not paying full attention to this presentation and were in-our-own-world, we both looked like deer in headlights saying whaaaaaat, all the while everyone turned to look at us. The clapping ensued and David hesitantly stood up and began walking to the front of the room. The clapping turned into one person standing up, then another, then everyone. David's face was priceless, as he stood at the front of the room accepting his award. He had gone on this mission trip with no one knowing anything about him, nor what he does for a living or with any credentials. Just David who's there to help - not just the Honduran people, but the volunteers as well.
And that's basically how our trip ended. David says he got that award because he made coffee. Everybody loves coffee, right? It's a good example of how doing something so simple for others can trump all the complex things happening around you. Just so you know, David makes a mean cup of coffee. Absolutely delicious.
Side note: I knew David was more compassionate and caring than I was when I married him. I've kidded about that for about 30 years now. He's modest and flies under the radar. But the mission trip people caught onto him, and made sure he knew he was appreciated for his wonderful, kind and considerate self. I was happy for him, and happy to be with him. (I've got a lot to live up to to keep up with him.)
So as my final blog for our Honduras trip comes to a close, I continue to reflect and appreciate many things about it. What I hold nearest to my heart is the nature of the Honduran people. Their spirit, their resilience, and their composure. They stay strong in their struggles, and are brave when they are afraid. Their gratitude is infinite, and I am inspired by them. It was a privilege to be a part of this endeavor. The most common question I get is, "Will you go back?". I imagine we may, as well as look for other trips to contribute to. We really don't know yet, and trust that God will place us as He intends. The faith and trust we have will guide us.
Until then, we continue living our life, doing our thing. Reminiscing over it all, reflecting and moving to chapters in our lives we have no idea about. We have aquired several new farm animals in the short time we've been back home. And I can't wait to tell you all about it! I am where I'm supposed to be.
Home Sweet Home,
Cyndi
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
The life of a volunteer
Let's step through the life of someone who is one of the (approx) 60 volunteers on the Brigade to the NPH Ranch and One World Surgery Center in Honduras:
You will awaken in your assigned room, at the conference center, where everyone stays during the duration of this mission trip. Your room is one of many, similar to the set-up of a one-story hotel with all the room doors facing inward, towards the courtyard. The courtyard is filled with various seating options and plenty of hammocks (which you will enjoy later after your work is completed). In your room are 4 twin beds (some with 5 beds) with your assigned roommates, which are of the same gender as you. If you came with a spouse, you most likely will stay in separate rooms, unless you 1) got lucky to get a room of your own, or 2) vocalized the need to room only with your spouse whereby "special" arrangements would need to be made. There's only so many rooms in which to split everyone up in, and they do the very best they can to accommodate everyone. In your room, there is also a shower and bathroom facilities. Don't drink the water, or open your mouth in the shower, or brush your teeth with the tap water. Don't flush toilette paper down the toilette, as you are to put the TP in the trash next to the toilette. They will kindly lend you gloves to dig for the TP if you do decide to flush it down. Just FYI. Then, you realize what a habit it is that you do this, and you'll mess up several times and toss the TP in......and reach down to grab it. Yep, you'll do that a time or two.
So as you get up, some of your roommates will continue to sleep as everyone goes to their "jobs" at different times each day. Some are early, and some are later depending on what you will be doing that day. Clinical volunteers walk to the Surgery Center, while the General volunteers do a myriad of things at various places on the Ranch. As you are getting ready in your room for the day, you might not have slept well because of a snoring roommate. That will be your destiny every night. You try to make your bed, in the dark, so as to not have your roommates judge you on your cleanliness. You were given sheets and a pillow (and one towel), but the blanket on your bed is the one you brought with you from home. You appreciate the luxury of having a bathroom/shower in your room, and it's a nice one. Tile, clean, pretty and right at your fingertips. Your in Honduras, and the accommodations are fantastic.
Now your ready for your day, and head out through the courtyard to the volunteer's designated kitchen area. It is filled with fruit, snacks and plenty of fresh drinking water that never will run out, the whole time your there. What will run out is the electricity. But that's life in Honduras, it happens several times every day. Off and on. Off and on. No biggie, as there are generators in designated areas - esp the Surgery Center - so your told to "Count to 5" and the generator will kick in and wall-laaa, the electricity is back on again. You get used to this quite quickly. You grab a cup of coffee in the cup you brought with you (along with your plate and own silverware to use at every meal) and there's dry creamer and sugar right there for you as well. There are extra cups, plates, bowls, etc in this kitchen just in case you don't have yours with you. And as always, you are to wash every dish you use after you use it. Peer pressure makes sure you do. You can eat now, or head out to your designated work place for the morning/day. Another luxury is that breakfast is cooked (by some of the volunteers and paid workers who supervise you) and is usually ready around 9 am (Honduran-Time) just in case you prefer to eat a little later. This breakfast is also taken to the surgery center for those to eat, when they get a break. You walk to your designated job, and so-you-know you walk everywhere (which is wonderful because Honduras is SO beautiful!), and you have your flashlight with you in the dark, early morning hours. There's security all over on the Ranch, with guards with guns on their hips. They are there so you can be there safely. They most likely do not speak english, but they do smile at you, knowing what you are there for. You know not to be out after dark, you've been told this. But, the guards know you will be out and about in the early mornings heading to your appropriate place.
You arrive at your appointed job for the day. It's the reason you are here - and you love helping, doing, working, listening, and just being there. You are a Pre-Op Nurse, a OR Nurse, a Scrub Tech, a Sterile Processor, a translator, a farm hand, a cook, the cleanup crew, a tortilla maker, a trash person, gardner, compost specialist, and anything and everything. You do what needs to be done, and enjoy doing so. Matter of fact, you relish in the privilege of being there to assist the Honduran people. They are so very grateful, patient, kind and gracious. Most have beautiful dark skin and brown eyes that look at you with certainty - and uncertainty. They know you are there to help them, but it's not always easy for them to trust you. The translators are the gateway to the success of it all. You can try to help all day, but communication is key, esp when your in the healthcare aspect of it. So you "thank" the translator each and every time they assist you, because in order to give first class health care to the Honduran people, you must be able to talk to them. You quickly realize that many do not understand health care, what their birth year really is, why it matters, or have the ability to sign their name. Okay, a fingerprint will do on a Surgery Consent Form. And you realize that EVERYONE states they have no allergies to drugs. NKDA (No Known Drug Allergy) in the healthcare world. What?! That's because they likely don't have access to medication and health care, therefore they have no idea if they have any medication allergies. You find these discoveries fascinating.
Lunch is normally around 1pm, and that's a estimation. You have lunch whenever you can get it. It's available at the conference center and at the surgery center, depending on your duties on any given day. Your glad to have it. And once again, it's made by the volunteers, with staff members directing the flow of it. You chop an onion, in the same time they chop 5. You slice a loaf of bread, they slice 7 during that same time. They don't mess around. Your instructed to slice each loaf into 35 slices. They are mindful of their food allotments, and what any given food item can render. And did I mention, they are fast at preparing it. You are left in their dust, as they scamper around like kitchen fairies making everything look easy.
You work at your appointed job anywhere from 8 - 12 hours each day. You never think about the "getting paid" part. You are working because you want to, and it has absolutely nothing to do with any monetary benefit. You feel the benefit inside you, and it feeds your soul. Your connection to these people fills up every bucket inside you. Some of the people you are helping you just want to put in your pocket and take back home. They are all special people with strong spirits who just want to live a whole-hearted life. Unfortunately, that's a hard thing to do in this country. Yet, you know you are doing the best you can to contribute a small piece of their puzzle towards improving their life. However small or large it might be.
After each work day is completed, it's time to walk back to the conference center. There, you may take a little personal time to call your family, go for a walk/run, go see the children in the nearby homes and say Hello, play soccer with them, or shower and get ready for dinner. You, and all the other volunteers, are leading their own journey this week. We are all together, yet separate in our thoughts and desires. Our experiences will be different as we walk the same walk together this week. Every one around you is helping in their own way.
Dinner is served at 7 pm each night in the dining area at the conference center. It is cooked by volunteers as well as paid staff. Before dinner is served, you listen to announcements and shout-outs (praise for your fellow volunteers) and visit with the people around you about their day. You are hungry, and usually have no idea what will be served for dinner unless you were part of the cooking duties that day. Not to worry, as your backup is always peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which is available 24/7. Dinner is served buffet style, kind of like going to Luby's cafeteria. You go down the line, and volunteers have volunteered to serve food. It just happens, like being at a family function. People just do things automatically. People are innately good and kind. And clean. This is a good thing when you are at a place with 60 people you most likely do not know.
After dinner, there is always a presentation. This usually consist of someone on the Ranch telling their story. Dr Merlin (Physician/Surgeon and Medical Director of the Surgery Center) told of his growing up as a child on the Ranch, having the privilege of an education, and becoming a Dr himself. He then decided to come back to the Ranch to work and help the children and people there. There are many stories like his. Those of struggle and success. Those who were brave when they were afraid, and stayed strong through their struggles. He's an excellant example of what you can do and be in Honduras. And his sense of humor is unlike others. He's just plain funny! He's one of your favorite people there. Night after night you listen to these stories. You are touched every time.
After the dinner and presentation, you go back to you designated room. Your tired, but it's a good tired. You've been busy all day. And you'll do it again tomorrow, happily. Who will you help tomorrow, you wonder? What will the day hold? Your still adjusting to the people around you, the culture, the dos and don'ts, and the person in the bed next to yours. The wifi is weak, but the coffee is strong. You stay focused on the good things around you.......and look forward to helping more people tomorrow. You lay down on a pillow that your most grateful for. You lay heavy in the bed from your day, all while reflecting on the events. Then sleep finds you, to rejuvenate you so you can rejuvenate others.
Here's to another day,
Cyndi
You will awaken in your assigned room, at the conference center, where everyone stays during the duration of this mission trip. Your room is one of many, similar to the set-up of a one-story hotel with all the room doors facing inward, towards the courtyard. The courtyard is filled with various seating options and plenty of hammocks (which you will enjoy later after your work is completed). In your room are 4 twin beds (some with 5 beds) with your assigned roommates, which are of the same gender as you. If you came with a spouse, you most likely will stay in separate rooms, unless you 1) got lucky to get a room of your own, or 2) vocalized the need to room only with your spouse whereby "special" arrangements would need to be made. There's only so many rooms in which to split everyone up in, and they do the very best they can to accommodate everyone. In your room, there is also a shower and bathroom facilities. Don't drink the water, or open your mouth in the shower, or brush your teeth with the tap water. Don't flush toilette paper down the toilette, as you are to put the TP in the trash next to the toilette. They will kindly lend you gloves to dig for the TP if you do decide to flush it down. Just FYI. Then, you realize what a habit it is that you do this, and you'll mess up several times and toss the TP in......and reach down to grab it. Yep, you'll do that a time or two.
So as you get up, some of your roommates will continue to sleep as everyone goes to their "jobs" at different times each day. Some are early, and some are later depending on what you will be doing that day. Clinical volunteers walk to the Surgery Center, while the General volunteers do a myriad of things at various places on the Ranch. As you are getting ready in your room for the day, you might not have slept well because of a snoring roommate. That will be your destiny every night. You try to make your bed, in the dark, so as to not have your roommates judge you on your cleanliness. You were given sheets and a pillow (and one towel), but the blanket on your bed is the one you brought with you from home. You appreciate the luxury of having a bathroom/shower in your room, and it's a nice one. Tile, clean, pretty and right at your fingertips. Your in Honduras, and the accommodations are fantastic.
Now your ready for your day, and head out through the courtyard to the volunteer's designated kitchen area. It is filled with fruit, snacks and plenty of fresh drinking water that never will run out, the whole time your there. What will run out is the electricity. But that's life in Honduras, it happens several times every day. Off and on. Off and on. No biggie, as there are generators in designated areas - esp the Surgery Center - so your told to "Count to 5" and the generator will kick in and wall-laaa, the electricity is back on again. You get used to this quite quickly. You grab a cup of coffee in the cup you brought with you (along with your plate and own silverware to use at every meal) and there's dry creamer and sugar right there for you as well. There are extra cups, plates, bowls, etc in this kitchen just in case you don't have yours with you. And as always, you are to wash every dish you use after you use it. Peer pressure makes sure you do. You can eat now, or head out to your designated work place for the morning/day. Another luxury is that breakfast is cooked (by some of the volunteers and paid workers who supervise you) and is usually ready around 9 am (Honduran-Time) just in case you prefer to eat a little later. This breakfast is also taken to the surgery center for those to eat, when they get a break. You walk to your designated job, and so-you-know you walk everywhere (which is wonderful because Honduras is SO beautiful!), and you have your flashlight with you in the dark, early morning hours. There's security all over on the Ranch, with guards with guns on their hips. They are there so you can be there safely. They most likely do not speak english, but they do smile at you, knowing what you are there for. You know not to be out after dark, you've been told this. But, the guards know you will be out and about in the early mornings heading to your appropriate place.
You arrive at your appointed job for the day. It's the reason you are here - and you love helping, doing, working, listening, and just being there. You are a Pre-Op Nurse, a OR Nurse, a Scrub Tech, a Sterile Processor, a translator, a farm hand, a cook, the cleanup crew, a tortilla maker, a trash person, gardner, compost specialist, and anything and everything. You do what needs to be done, and enjoy doing so. Matter of fact, you relish in the privilege of being there to assist the Honduran people. They are so very grateful, patient, kind and gracious. Most have beautiful dark skin and brown eyes that look at you with certainty - and uncertainty. They know you are there to help them, but it's not always easy for them to trust you. The translators are the gateway to the success of it all. You can try to help all day, but communication is key, esp when your in the healthcare aspect of it. So you "thank" the translator each and every time they assist you, because in order to give first class health care to the Honduran people, you must be able to talk to them. You quickly realize that many do not understand health care, what their birth year really is, why it matters, or have the ability to sign their name. Okay, a fingerprint will do on a Surgery Consent Form. And you realize that EVERYONE states they have no allergies to drugs. NKDA (No Known Drug Allergy) in the healthcare world. What?! That's because they likely don't have access to medication and health care, therefore they have no idea if they have any medication allergies. You find these discoveries fascinating.
Lunch is normally around 1pm, and that's a estimation. You have lunch whenever you can get it. It's available at the conference center and at the surgery center, depending on your duties on any given day. Your glad to have it. And once again, it's made by the volunteers, with staff members directing the flow of it. You chop an onion, in the same time they chop 5. You slice a loaf of bread, they slice 7 during that same time. They don't mess around. Your instructed to slice each loaf into 35 slices. They are mindful of their food allotments, and what any given food item can render. And did I mention, they are fast at preparing it. You are left in their dust, as they scamper around like kitchen fairies making everything look easy.
You work at your appointed job anywhere from 8 - 12 hours each day. You never think about the "getting paid" part. You are working because you want to, and it has absolutely nothing to do with any monetary benefit. You feel the benefit inside you, and it feeds your soul. Your connection to these people fills up every bucket inside you. Some of the people you are helping you just want to put in your pocket and take back home. They are all special people with strong spirits who just want to live a whole-hearted life. Unfortunately, that's a hard thing to do in this country. Yet, you know you are doing the best you can to contribute a small piece of their puzzle towards improving their life. However small or large it might be.
After each work day is completed, it's time to walk back to the conference center. There, you may take a little personal time to call your family, go for a walk/run, go see the children in the nearby homes and say Hello, play soccer with them, or shower and get ready for dinner. You, and all the other volunteers, are leading their own journey this week. We are all together, yet separate in our thoughts and desires. Our experiences will be different as we walk the same walk together this week. Every one around you is helping in their own way.
Dinner is served at 7 pm each night in the dining area at the conference center. It is cooked by volunteers as well as paid staff. Before dinner is served, you listen to announcements and shout-outs (praise for your fellow volunteers) and visit with the people around you about their day. You are hungry, and usually have no idea what will be served for dinner unless you were part of the cooking duties that day. Not to worry, as your backup is always peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which is available 24/7. Dinner is served buffet style, kind of like going to Luby's cafeteria. You go down the line, and volunteers have volunteered to serve food. It just happens, like being at a family function. People just do things automatically. People are innately good and kind. And clean. This is a good thing when you are at a place with 60 people you most likely do not know.
After dinner, there is always a presentation. This usually consist of someone on the Ranch telling their story. Dr Merlin (Physician/Surgeon and Medical Director of the Surgery Center) told of his growing up as a child on the Ranch, having the privilege of an education, and becoming a Dr himself. He then decided to come back to the Ranch to work and help the children and people there. There are many stories like his. Those of struggle and success. Those who were brave when they were afraid, and stayed strong through their struggles. He's an excellant example of what you can do and be in Honduras. And his sense of humor is unlike others. He's just plain funny! He's one of your favorite people there. Night after night you listen to these stories. You are touched every time.
After the dinner and presentation, you go back to you designated room. Your tired, but it's a good tired. You've been busy all day. And you'll do it again tomorrow, happily. Who will you help tomorrow, you wonder? What will the day hold? Your still adjusting to the people around you, the culture, the dos and don'ts, and the person in the bed next to yours. The wifi is weak, but the coffee is strong. You stay focused on the good things around you.......and look forward to helping more people tomorrow. You lay down on a pillow that your most grateful for. You lay heavy in the bed from your day, all while reflecting on the events. Then sleep finds you, to rejuvenate you so you can rejuvenate others.
Here's to another day,
Cyndi
Monday, February 26, 2018
A retrospective view
Interesting, this thing called life. As we live it, it seems different than when we reflect back on it. I had begun my blog while on a medical mission to Honduras. I was on Day 2 when I last wrote. Then, everything changed. I was not able to fit in the time needed to blog, my email crashed while there, and my basic communications became difficult. I knew that documenting the day-to-day happenings was not going to be a pliable option while in Honduras, and I patiently waited to get back to the US. This delay was valuable to assist me in understanding what had actually occurred while on this medical mission.
I'll start with Monday - Friday. Each day, I awoke to coffee that was already made (for all the volunteers) by David. He would place my cup under the machine in a ready position for me to easily pour it, nearby he placed a plate, fork/knife with the peanut butter. This coffee machine was quite large, as what began as a nice gesture for me to have coffee early in the morning, soon became a way of life for the volunteers as well. The volunteers had been told we all would be responsible for the making of the coffee, and David, unknowingly, took that on. He would set his alarm at a unusually early time (like 3 am) to get up and make sure all the early birds heading to the surgery center (to work) had coffee. Everyone loved it, and not many people knew it was him that had made it. It was just "made" already. David laid low, and just kept his ritual to himself.
Each day, I was to be one of the OR Circulating Nurses at One World Surgery Center. We learned at Orientation on Sunday that there would be 3 OR's running each day. And that's just what I did each day, the same work that I do on any other given day in the US. This time, it is for the Honduran people. The "general" volunteers would sign up each evening, on a sign-up sheet after dinner, to pick a duty that suited them. There were things like making tortillas (hand-made, mind you), cooking breakfast or lunch for everyone, cleaning up the kitchen, taking the trash out at the surgery center (which had two parts to it, 1) take it from inside to outside, or 2) take it from outside straight up a steep incline to the place where they burn their trash), caring/visiting the children, working on the farm or in the garden, working in the surgery center either keeping the break room clean, cleaning the OR's between cases, sterile processing work, observing OR cases, and many other duties. The list is too long to give, but you get the idea. Those workers who were clinical had their assignments at the surgery center and were there until the day was done (in their department) and/or all cases were completed. Typically I would be there at least 10 hours in the OR, but on several occasions I was there longer. This is what we were there for, and it made sense to work all we could while we were there. What did David do, you ask? His Theme was: I'll do whatever nobody wants to do. And he did. He would wait til everyone else signed up, then tell Maria he'd do what is needed or left. He mostly ended up cooking breakfast and cleaning up each morning, then working on the farm (shoveling poop, as they are big on composting), or trash duty at the surgery center. There was one day he observed in the OR - which he rather enjoyed. It was a lot of physical work for everyone.
The best part was what we came for: to help the Honduran people. We had surgery cases scheduled each day intended to improve the life of the individual. Let's say that a man had a torn rotator cuff in his shoulder, and now he can't work - or a knee injury or a hernia or or or or. These are surgeries that are performed and can get them back to work, as well as feeling better and having a higher quality of life in general. These are people without access to health care in general due to many factors like financial assistance or location. One World Surgery Center provides the surgery free of charge. Although, there are many people (who have surgery) who ask what they can do in return. There are many options for them, if they desire, and many of them want to give back. So they can come back and perform work around the Ranch or some other barter option, if they so desire. This is not forced or encouraged, and is only if a patient wishes to do so in the future. This is important to note that the Honduran culture is giving and kind. Yes, the violence and crime is out of control, BUT the "regular" people are gracious and grateful. As I type this, I see their faces. They are quiet in the environment of a language they do not know. Even though we have many translators available to assist, they are surrounded by volunteers, mostly from the US. The Honduran people sit quietly, and wait patiently. They do not complain. At all. They are unsure of what is about to happen, what the process is, and how things will be after their surgery. They receive little if any healthcare in their life, so this is a big shock to them. They are scared, and are surrounded by a culture of people they do not know. They use their fingerprint, instead of a signature because they can't read or write. Yet, they trust us. They trust us to take care of them and help them get better. It's a big responsibility and we do not take it lightly. We all step up to the plate to use our individual skills and as a team, come together to help those who so desperately need it. Everything else aside, all other agendas people bring with them, the mission is to help the Honduran people. And that we did. Each one of them have a story, they have a life, they have goals and dreams. They are just like us, except they live in a world of poverty, crime and violence. I'm going to stop here a minute and say something to that broad statement I just wrote. There are parts of Honduras that are "safer", or more "normal", or more like a city in the US. But for the most part, there's danger lurking. A armed security officer outside a surgery center is mandatory in Honduras. So, it's just apples and oranges when it comes to explaining how things are in that part of the country.
Geographically, we flew into Tegucigalpa, Honduras, which is the capital city. It was about an hour or so bus ride to NPH Ranch. **Note: You can Google NPH Ranch or One World Surgery Center and there's information out there about both. They are on the same site physically, but surprisingly, only minimally connected ** On the bus ride there, we saw many things. A guy on a motorcycle, with a women on the back hanging onto him with one hand, and carrying/holding her baby with the other hand. Don't even ask about a helmet. (And people give me a hard time when I let my dog ride with me on mine). We saw the horses, donkeys and dogs (on the side of the road) with their ribs protruding. We saw what it looks like to live in a house made of packing crates, and people (kids) carrying things along the side of the road that would make no sense to us - but perfect sense to them. It's basically an indescribable thing. It's a movie that now plays in my head regularly. It's a puzzle I'm trying to put together with no pieces that fit. Hence, why I cannot still make it all "fit" inside my head, which has lead me to the inability to blog like I normally would. There's so much to write - yet so much that I cannot put together words that do it justice. It just all seems like chaotic noise without a melody as I write it. I've given in to the notion that it's all going to be willy-nilly on my blog. I have so much to tell.....but I'm struggling to express it, because I can't settle it all in my mind. So, I'll keep throwing words and things together so that you can try and piece together the parts of this puzzle as we go along. My experience in Honduras is more conducive for a book, rather than a blog.
My future blogs will be about: 1) the volunteers and their activities, 2) special and certain activities that occurred while we were there, 3) the drama of being with a group of 60 people all with a similar mission, and 3) the Children's Home set-up, 4) David, and much more. This is my start, and I needed to throw a starting point out there. As I so appropriately titled it, the reflection is still happening in my head. The looking back, the reevaluation of what I thought happened and what actually happened. I think this is what happens when "set" expectations are met with real life. Curve ball, my friend.
There's two things I know for sure:
1) I used to always think I was grateful. For my family/friends, my life, my well-being, my job, pretty much everything. Now, it's like I've moved to a new level of gratitude that I didn't know existed. Kind of like a butterfly unicorn......something you didn't know existed, but does. My new level of gratitude is beyond words. It's a new feeling, a heightened sense of knowing something I never knew before. Hearing about something - and then seeing it - can translate into two completely different things, hence the life people lead in Honduras (and many parts of the world) became new and different when I saw it first hand, sitting in front of me, holding my hand for comfort, feeling their struggle, and seeing it in their eyes. My smile came naturally to them, my touch on their hand and not wanting to let go, and the privilege God granted me to be there, and tossed me into a place I've never been. Literally and emotionally. I thought I was grateful in life, but my new level of gratitude has me wondering.....is there more I'm missing? And I'm sure now that the answer is Yes.
2) Another take-away for me was that each person who came on this mission had their own unique and special experience. Everyone looked at it through their own eyes, had feelings only they will know, and walked away from this with their own evaluation. We each had our own special experience. No story will be the same. We may have similarities in what we experienced, but the overall take-away for each of us is idiosyncratic and distinct. Fascinating considering we all went with the same goal. Or at least most people there had the same goal. DunDunDunnnnn.
As I sigh a big sigh of relief, I've now been able to start my blogging process for this trip. I'm ready to open the vault and let the therapy, I mean words, come out. It is very cathartic, no doubt. The chatter in my mind is busy busy, and I'll take them and put them into words over the next few days. And we'll take this journey together.
Did I mention how beautiful, mountainous and breathtaking Honduras is? Your gorgeous, Honduras, you really are.
Much love,
C
I'll start with Monday - Friday. Each day, I awoke to coffee that was already made (for all the volunteers) by David. He would place my cup under the machine in a ready position for me to easily pour it, nearby he placed a plate, fork/knife with the peanut butter. This coffee machine was quite large, as what began as a nice gesture for me to have coffee early in the morning, soon became a way of life for the volunteers as well. The volunteers had been told we all would be responsible for the making of the coffee, and David, unknowingly, took that on. He would set his alarm at a unusually early time (like 3 am) to get up and make sure all the early birds heading to the surgery center (to work) had coffee. Everyone loved it, and not many people knew it was him that had made it. It was just "made" already. David laid low, and just kept his ritual to himself.
Each day, I was to be one of the OR Circulating Nurses at One World Surgery Center. We learned at Orientation on Sunday that there would be 3 OR's running each day. And that's just what I did each day, the same work that I do on any other given day in the US. This time, it is for the Honduran people. The "general" volunteers would sign up each evening, on a sign-up sheet after dinner, to pick a duty that suited them. There were things like making tortillas (hand-made, mind you), cooking breakfast or lunch for everyone, cleaning up the kitchen, taking the trash out at the surgery center (which had two parts to it, 1) take it from inside to outside, or 2) take it from outside straight up a steep incline to the place where they burn their trash), caring/visiting the children, working on the farm or in the garden, working in the surgery center either keeping the break room clean, cleaning the OR's between cases, sterile processing work, observing OR cases, and many other duties. The list is too long to give, but you get the idea. Those workers who were clinical had their assignments at the surgery center and were there until the day was done (in their department) and/or all cases were completed. Typically I would be there at least 10 hours in the OR, but on several occasions I was there longer. This is what we were there for, and it made sense to work all we could while we were there. What did David do, you ask? His Theme was: I'll do whatever nobody wants to do. And he did. He would wait til everyone else signed up, then tell Maria he'd do what is needed or left. He mostly ended up cooking breakfast and cleaning up each morning, then working on the farm (shoveling poop, as they are big on composting), or trash duty at the surgery center. There was one day he observed in the OR - which he rather enjoyed. It was a lot of physical work for everyone.
The best part was what we came for: to help the Honduran people. We had surgery cases scheduled each day intended to improve the life of the individual. Let's say that a man had a torn rotator cuff in his shoulder, and now he can't work - or a knee injury or a hernia or or or or. These are surgeries that are performed and can get them back to work, as well as feeling better and having a higher quality of life in general. These are people without access to health care in general due to many factors like financial assistance or location. One World Surgery Center provides the surgery free of charge. Although, there are many people (who have surgery) who ask what they can do in return. There are many options for them, if they desire, and many of them want to give back. So they can come back and perform work around the Ranch or some other barter option, if they so desire. This is not forced or encouraged, and is only if a patient wishes to do so in the future. This is important to note that the Honduran culture is giving and kind. Yes, the violence and crime is out of control, BUT the "regular" people are gracious and grateful. As I type this, I see their faces. They are quiet in the environment of a language they do not know. Even though we have many translators available to assist, they are surrounded by volunteers, mostly from the US. The Honduran people sit quietly, and wait patiently. They do not complain. At all. They are unsure of what is about to happen, what the process is, and how things will be after their surgery. They receive little if any healthcare in their life, so this is a big shock to them. They are scared, and are surrounded by a culture of people they do not know. They use their fingerprint, instead of a signature because they can't read or write. Yet, they trust us. They trust us to take care of them and help them get better. It's a big responsibility and we do not take it lightly. We all step up to the plate to use our individual skills and as a team, come together to help those who so desperately need it. Everything else aside, all other agendas people bring with them, the mission is to help the Honduran people. And that we did. Each one of them have a story, they have a life, they have goals and dreams. They are just like us, except they live in a world of poverty, crime and violence. I'm going to stop here a minute and say something to that broad statement I just wrote. There are parts of Honduras that are "safer", or more "normal", or more like a city in the US. But for the most part, there's danger lurking. A armed security officer outside a surgery center is mandatory in Honduras. So, it's just apples and oranges when it comes to explaining how things are in that part of the country.
Geographically, we flew into Tegucigalpa, Honduras, which is the capital city. It was about an hour or so bus ride to NPH Ranch. **Note: You can Google NPH Ranch or One World Surgery Center and there's information out there about both. They are on the same site physically, but surprisingly, only minimally connected ** On the bus ride there, we saw many things. A guy on a motorcycle, with a women on the back hanging onto him with one hand, and carrying/holding her baby with the other hand. Don't even ask about a helmet. (And people give me a hard time when I let my dog ride with me on mine). We saw the horses, donkeys and dogs (on the side of the road) with their ribs protruding. We saw what it looks like to live in a house made of packing crates, and people (kids) carrying things along the side of the road that would make no sense to us - but perfect sense to them. It's basically an indescribable thing. It's a movie that now plays in my head regularly. It's a puzzle I'm trying to put together with no pieces that fit. Hence, why I cannot still make it all "fit" inside my head, which has lead me to the inability to blog like I normally would. There's so much to write - yet so much that I cannot put together words that do it justice. It just all seems like chaotic noise without a melody as I write it. I've given in to the notion that it's all going to be willy-nilly on my blog. I have so much to tell.....but I'm struggling to express it, because I can't settle it all in my mind. So, I'll keep throwing words and things together so that you can try and piece together the parts of this puzzle as we go along. My experience in Honduras is more conducive for a book, rather than a blog.
My future blogs will be about: 1) the volunteers and their activities, 2) special and certain activities that occurred while we were there, 3) the drama of being with a group of 60 people all with a similar mission, and 3) the Children's Home set-up, 4) David, and much more. This is my start, and I needed to throw a starting point out there. As I so appropriately titled it, the reflection is still happening in my head. The looking back, the reevaluation of what I thought happened and what actually happened. I think this is what happens when "set" expectations are met with real life. Curve ball, my friend.
There's two things I know for sure:
1) I used to always think I was grateful. For my family/friends, my life, my well-being, my job, pretty much everything. Now, it's like I've moved to a new level of gratitude that I didn't know existed. Kind of like a butterfly unicorn......something you didn't know existed, but does. My new level of gratitude is beyond words. It's a new feeling, a heightened sense of knowing something I never knew before. Hearing about something - and then seeing it - can translate into two completely different things, hence the life people lead in Honduras (and many parts of the world) became new and different when I saw it first hand, sitting in front of me, holding my hand for comfort, feeling their struggle, and seeing it in their eyes. My smile came naturally to them, my touch on their hand and not wanting to let go, and the privilege God granted me to be there, and tossed me into a place I've never been. Literally and emotionally. I thought I was grateful in life, but my new level of gratitude has me wondering.....is there more I'm missing? And I'm sure now that the answer is Yes.
2) Another take-away for me was that each person who came on this mission had their own unique and special experience. Everyone looked at it through their own eyes, had feelings only they will know, and walked away from this with their own evaluation. We each had our own special experience. No story will be the same. We may have similarities in what we experienced, but the overall take-away for each of us is idiosyncratic and distinct. Fascinating considering we all went with the same goal. Or at least most people there had the same goal. DunDunDunnnnn.
As I sigh a big sigh of relief, I've now been able to start my blogging process for this trip. I'm ready to open the vault and let the therapy, I mean words, come out. It is very cathartic, no doubt. The chatter in my mind is busy busy, and I'll take them and put them into words over the next few days. And we'll take this journey together.
Did I mention how beautiful, mountainous and breathtaking Honduras is? Your gorgeous, Honduras, you really are.
Much love,
C
Sunday, February 18, 2018
I stand corrected
Many things are becoming clearer as Day 2 in Honduras ensues.
First, I’ll rewind back to Day 1. We had an interesting (school) bus ride from the capital city to the NPR Ranch. NPR = Nuestros Pequenos Hermanos = My little brothers and sisters. The bus ride took us through Life In Honduras: poverty, mountains, warm climate, narrow roads, beautiful countryside, and people struggling with violence and lack of food on a daily basis. Living conditions are simply indescribable, and pictures cannot express the devastation. Bright Side? We, along with many other people, have come to assist some of these people in need.
After arriving at The Ranch, we settled into our designated rooms. The assignments were such that I’m in a all-girls room, and David is in a all-boys room. We are next door to each other, with anywhere from 4 to 5 twin beds per room. The facility we are staying in is somewhat new, and very nice. Each room has a bathroom and shower. Note: In Honduras, no matter where you are, you do not flush toilet paper down the toilet. The saying goes that “only what comes out of your body goes in the toilet.”
After we settled in and unpacked a bit, dinner was served. Fish, rice, vegetables, potatoes and homemade cake for dessert. The dining room is in the same building as the sleeping quarters, and everything is amazingly organized and nice. This Medical Mission has convenient and high quality facilities. I don’t think I expected that, although I don’t really know what I expected. Granted, there are many things that are dated: they still burn their trash, you can’t drink the water, you can’t brush your teeth with the water, and the electricity goes off often.
After dinner on Day 1, we all stood up and introduced ourselves, a presentation was given regarding the brigade - and its history. Then, it was off to our rooms for bed. Lights out wasn’t at 8 pm after all, it was at 9:30 pm. I think everyone was tired from the long trip here, with many people from Chicago, Minnesota and Connecticut. There is a big group of folks from the Austin area, too. It seemed like so many names to remember!
Fast forward to Day 2.
Of course, I woke up early. As I walked out of my room, I noticed no one was up. Then, surprise! David walked out of his room, along with Nick, another volunteer from the surgery center I work at. They both had “been awake” for some time, as one of their roommates was snoring like a freight train. They were surprised I could not hear it next door. I couldn’t hear it because one of my own roommates was snoring! It’s going to be a long week of figuring out how to get some sleep. David and Nick said they will be sleeping in a hammock outside tonight......and I think they are serious.
I digress. The three of us walked across the atrium to the dining area. One thing I forgot to mention was the peanut butter and bananas they provide, along with other fruit and snacks . So I had my usual banana and peanut butter, along with some coffee that David made for the whole group (in a huge mamma jamma coffee maker). After I ate, I knew that if I was to fit a run in, that now was the time, as the day was scheduled with other activities. So off I went! Running and exploring. I stayed on the “road” and mostly did laps of the area I knew. Yet, I still looked around as I ran. I could hear the unusual and new bird calls, the unfamiliar smells, and ever-present oddness of actually being in this country. What a privilege it is. We are safe on this compound with one exception.....do not be outside of our facility area when it’s dark. The security guards shoot, no questions asked, they will shoot a moving body in the dark. Everyone knows not to be out in the dark, it’s just a way of life here on this ranch. If you are, you had better let security know beforehand. The “violence” outside of this compound sometimes tries to get in. But they don’t stand a chance, as this place is heavily protected. They don’t mess around.
I happily finished my run, and came back to my room to shower. Sometimes you have hot water, sometimes you don’t. I got lucky, and had a warm shower. So far, it’s certainly my lucky day. Now, I just have to keep reminding myself not to open my mouth when I shower, as that’s another no-no. I use my towel I brought, to dry off. The ranch does give you one towel for the week, and encourages everyone to bring one of their own from home, as well.
After that, I met back up with David (and the grou) and we began our day. First things first, we take a organized walking tour of the ranch. OMGoodness. There’s so much back in here, down this tiny road. Buildings and more buildings of dorm-like structures that house children, and there’s a school, a “elderly “ home, other volunteer/visitor housing, staff housing, chapel’s, gardens, crops growing in the fields, and a farm (yes, a farm!). I wanted to stay there for the week. Cows, pigs, chickens......and I was instantly home-sick. Despite my internal resistance, we went on, and continued by buildings whereby trades are taught to the older children such as electricity skills, cosmetology, mechanics, sewing shop and others. They are educating these children (250 onsite right now), and as they approach 9th grade, they offer them training in these different trades. Simply amazing. They also counsel them in life skills of what healthy relationships would include, such as mutual respect, self-respect, communication skills among other mentally-healthy topics these children need, and are missing in life without their parents there to teach them. Speaking of children, after our tour, we went to a communal meeting spot to visit and play with some of the children. I can only sum this up with this: even though there’s a language barrier, verbal cues are enough to realize what they want to do (play, sit in your lap, etc). Another clarification I’d like to make is that this facility prefers it to be called a Children’s Home, and not a Orphanage. Many of the children are not orphans, as they have families, it’s just that they are unable to care for them due to the extreme poverty and conditions.
Now it’s lunch time for everyone and we all go back to our designated places to eat. And most importantly, it’s time to go to the surgery center for orientation after lunch. That in itself will have to be continued in my next blog post. This is really what we came for, to provide free surgeries to those that need it most. What I soon realized is that it’s surgery for (external/outside the ranch) Hondurans, and primarily adults, who do not have the means to have their ACL/knee fixed, or a hernia repaired, or a fracture properly taken care of, so that they can work and live their life. There are so many things that are becoming clear as I learn what’s happening........and about to happen. And it’s not anything like how we do it in the US.
More to come,
Cyndi
First, I’ll rewind back to Day 1. We had an interesting (school) bus ride from the capital city to the NPR Ranch. NPR = Nuestros Pequenos Hermanos = My little brothers and sisters. The bus ride took us through Life In Honduras: poverty, mountains, warm climate, narrow roads, beautiful countryside, and people struggling with violence and lack of food on a daily basis. Living conditions are simply indescribable, and pictures cannot express the devastation. Bright Side? We, along with many other people, have come to assist some of these people in need.
After arriving at The Ranch, we settled into our designated rooms. The assignments were such that I’m in a all-girls room, and David is in a all-boys room. We are next door to each other, with anywhere from 4 to 5 twin beds per room. The facility we are staying in is somewhat new, and very nice. Each room has a bathroom and shower. Note: In Honduras, no matter where you are, you do not flush toilet paper down the toilet. The saying goes that “only what comes out of your body goes in the toilet.”
After we settled in and unpacked a bit, dinner was served. Fish, rice, vegetables, potatoes and homemade cake for dessert. The dining room is in the same building as the sleeping quarters, and everything is amazingly organized and nice. This Medical Mission has convenient and high quality facilities. I don’t think I expected that, although I don’t really know what I expected. Granted, there are many things that are dated: they still burn their trash, you can’t drink the water, you can’t brush your teeth with the water, and the electricity goes off often.
After dinner on Day 1, we all stood up and introduced ourselves, a presentation was given regarding the brigade - and its history. Then, it was off to our rooms for bed. Lights out wasn’t at 8 pm after all, it was at 9:30 pm. I think everyone was tired from the long trip here, with many people from Chicago, Minnesota and Connecticut. There is a big group of folks from the Austin area, too. It seemed like so many names to remember!
Fast forward to Day 2.
Of course, I woke up early. As I walked out of my room, I noticed no one was up. Then, surprise! David walked out of his room, along with Nick, another volunteer from the surgery center I work at. They both had “been awake” for some time, as one of their roommates was snoring like a freight train. They were surprised I could not hear it next door. I couldn’t hear it because one of my own roommates was snoring! It’s going to be a long week of figuring out how to get some sleep. David and Nick said they will be sleeping in a hammock outside tonight......and I think they are serious.
I digress. The three of us walked across the atrium to the dining area. One thing I forgot to mention was the peanut butter and bananas they provide, along with other fruit and snacks . So I had my usual banana and peanut butter, along with some coffee that David made for the whole group (in a huge mamma jamma coffee maker). After I ate, I knew that if I was to fit a run in, that now was the time, as the day was scheduled with other activities. So off I went! Running and exploring. I stayed on the “road” and mostly did laps of the area I knew. Yet, I still looked around as I ran. I could hear the unusual and new bird calls, the unfamiliar smells, and ever-present oddness of actually being in this country. What a privilege it is. We are safe on this compound with one exception.....do not be outside of our facility area when it’s dark. The security guards shoot, no questions asked, they will shoot a moving body in the dark. Everyone knows not to be out in the dark, it’s just a way of life here on this ranch. If you are, you had better let security know beforehand. The “violence” outside of this compound sometimes tries to get in. But they don’t stand a chance, as this place is heavily protected. They don’t mess around.
I happily finished my run, and came back to my room to shower. Sometimes you have hot water, sometimes you don’t. I got lucky, and had a warm shower. So far, it’s certainly my lucky day. Now, I just have to keep reminding myself not to open my mouth when I shower, as that’s another no-no. I use my towel I brought, to dry off. The ranch does give you one towel for the week, and encourages everyone to bring one of their own from home, as well.
After that, I met back up with David (and the grou) and we began our day. First things first, we take a organized walking tour of the ranch. OMGoodness. There’s so much back in here, down this tiny road. Buildings and more buildings of dorm-like structures that house children, and there’s a school, a “elderly “ home, other volunteer/visitor housing, staff housing, chapel’s, gardens, crops growing in the fields, and a farm (yes, a farm!). I wanted to stay there for the week. Cows, pigs, chickens......and I was instantly home-sick. Despite my internal resistance, we went on, and continued by buildings whereby trades are taught to the older children such as electricity skills, cosmetology, mechanics, sewing shop and others. They are educating these children (250 onsite right now), and as they approach 9th grade, they offer them training in these different trades. Simply amazing. They also counsel them in life skills of what healthy relationships would include, such as mutual respect, self-respect, communication skills among other mentally-healthy topics these children need, and are missing in life without their parents there to teach them. Speaking of children, after our tour, we went to a communal meeting spot to visit and play with some of the children. I can only sum this up with this: even though there’s a language barrier, verbal cues are enough to realize what they want to do (play, sit in your lap, etc). Another clarification I’d like to make is that this facility prefers it to be called a Children’s Home, and not a Orphanage. Many of the children are not orphans, as they have families, it’s just that they are unable to care for them due to the extreme poverty and conditions.
Now it’s lunch time for everyone and we all go back to our designated places to eat. And most importantly, it’s time to go to the surgery center for orientation after lunch. That in itself will have to be continued in my next blog post. This is really what we came for, to provide free surgeries to those that need it most. What I soon realized is that it’s surgery for (external/outside the ranch) Hondurans, and primarily adults, who do not have the means to have their ACL/knee fixed, or a hernia repaired, or a fracture properly taken care of, so that they can work and live their life. There are so many things that are becoming clear as I learn what’s happening........and about to happen. And it’s not anything like how we do it in the US.
More to come,
Cyndi
Saturday, February 17, 2018
And so it begins
It’s Go Time. February 17 arrived, and the journey for our Medical Mission trip to Honduras began.
David and I are both going, and will serve as stewards to the needs of One World Surgery Center in Tegucigalpa. We will fly there today, and return the following Saturday night.
For now, we are packed and making our way there. 2 flights, the first to Miami. We packed what we were told to bring, plus many other things we thought we might need, plus many things we don’t need but don’t know it yet. It’s a big “unknown”. What will be important, and what won’t? We’ll find out soon enough.
The temperature in Honduras will range from 80 during the day to 60 at night. Nice, huh?! So it seems. I brought shorts, which means I had to shave my legs, and will do so for the sake of my vanity. That in itself may be the least of my worries.
We were told to bring our own eating utensils, bug spray, light blanket, and rain jacket, plus an assortment of other items. A flashlight, as the electricity shuts off at 8 pm every night. And snacks and packaged food “if your a picky eater”. They said to bring an (empty) water bottle, and fill it up only out of specific designated sources. Do not drink water out of the facet, or brush your teeth with it either, we were told. Or you’ll be sorry.
I was told I will be a designated Circulating Operating Room RN for the week. I don’t know what service I will be working with (ENT, Urology, General, Gynecology, or whatever services they will offer this week), but I will make it happen. That’s what OR nurses do.
David is classified as a General Volunteer, which means he may be cooking, doing yard work, helping the children in the neighboring Orphanage, as well as assisting in the Surgery Center (turning over rooms between cases, etc). We were told his duties may be different each day. It takes many General Volunteers to keep this Mission going! It’s open to the public, so if you happen to be reading this, you can go sometime, too. They have many brigades each year. Clinical volunteers are great, but General volunteers are needed to assist in a plethora of areas.
You may have heard the Department of State has issued warnings about traveling to Honduras. No need to worry, we are told. The One World Surgery Center (along with an Children’s Orphanage and Elderly Orphanage) is located on a well-fenced and 24/7 guarded “Ranch”, about a hour bus-ride away from the Airport. I suspect the bus-ride there is not on a highway? I don’t really know. Could be a bumpy ride, later today.
How did I come across this opportunity? I work for Stonebridge Surgery Center which happens to be partially owned by SCA (Surgical Care Associates), who is a huge sponsor for this Mission. This Medical Mission is open to SCA employees and their families, but (most) many of the brigades are open to the general public, as well. They just need help there, to help others less fortunate. If I’m correct, there may be up to 60 people participating/volunteering this week. Doctors, nurses, and people from all walks of life with a single mission and goal.
So as we make our way there, we left behind our farm in good hands. Between our daughter, Lauren and another young lady, Rosie (who lives nearby in Gunter), they will take care of our sweet animals. Setting things up on the farm to be gone for a week, was a feat in itself. I’ll miss that the most. My Barn Time. Petting, loving, feeding and cleaning many animals has become not only a way-of-life, but a passion. It rivals with the calming effects of yoga.
One thing I know for sure, is that we will travel by bus to the “Ranch” today. We are not to leave there at all, for the duration of this trip. We do not leave the compound, until we are taken by bus the following Saturday back to the airport. No souvenir shopping. Nor are we allowed to give the children (on-site) anything - or bring gifts. The organizers do not want the children there to think they will always get things each time people come to volunteer. There is a Wish-List for the Orphanage if any one of us wants to donate to it directly, and/or bring things for the “Ranch”. They run a tight ship there, with volunteers coming and going. David and I have found it to be highly organized, with impeccable communication to the attendees. They make it easy, and have policies and procedures set out in detail.
I’ll report more as I can. WiFi and cell service is another item I’m unsure about in Honduras.
Happy Saturday,
Cyndi
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