On Holy Ground

As a writer, it surprises me every year that I have such a difficult time putting my thoughts about these missions to words. For the last three years I have been honored to join this team of caregivers and to write to all of you about their time here. With each year we do learn more, the teams get stronger, and the people we treat are just as grateful. I was the lone blogger for our first mission trip and am very happy to have had Andy North along these last two years to make sure that each of our fabulous team members are able to tell their story.

My first mission trip here was a difficult one. I had never seen poverty like what I saw here. I'd seen photographs, driven through poor neighborhoods, heard politicians speak about the plight of the poor. But I'd never walked into a home with a dirt floor, holes in the ceilings, and pigs walking through the living space. When I returned home from that first mission it had become very clear to me why dignity was a core value - and often the very first one on the list - at CHW. I was brought face-to-face with the reality that extreme poverty robs people of their dignity. And I cannot abide that.

The second mission trip was no less difficult even though I was more prepared for what I saw. The poverty was no less acute, but the people living here were resolute and charming as ever. Pope John Paul II said that the sins of the world can be read in the faces of the poor. He was right. The terror of everyday life that Peggy Styer spoke about in an earlier post is very real here.

The Cristo Negro, or Black Christ, is arguable the only real source of hope here. The sculpture was carved out of a tropical hardwood in the 1700s and over the centuries has turned completely black. Many, many miracles are associated with this sculpture. The shrine has become the spiritual center for Central America and a pilgrimage location for thousands. 

Cristo Negro

The hope for change and peace for millions of people is bound to this image. I don't often find myself identifying with symbols, but on this trip I was aware of the cross almost everywhere I went. It was a constant, but gentle reminder that when you are a witness to suffering you are on holy ground.

This posture towards suffering helped me when I was called upon to help on the mission in new ways. When the clinics were at their busiest I was trained by our nurses (thank you Jennifer Perez and Tiffany Edmiston) to take vitals and run lab work. It is a completely different experience and one for which I am incredibly grateful.

Tricia Griffin, taking vitals

Yet, I am a photographer for these mission trips, so I am seeing things first hand as well as recording what I see. Sometimes I wish the photos could do more. They aren't able to communicate the acrid smell and haze of burning garbage, the gentle touch of a patient's hand on your arm as they pass by, the excited tension in the air when the crowds line up outside the Basilica to receive a blessing from one of the monks.

What we do here is sacred work, just as it is in our hospitals and clinics. I am so grateful to have had this opportunity for three years and to get to know some of our caregivers in such a deep way.

And on behalf of all of the 2009 mission team I want to thank all of you back home for checking in on us regularly. We were getting about 1,000 hits to this blog a day. Knowing that you are following our journey is such a valuable part of our experience. Please do keep checking back. Each member of our team will be writing reflections upon returning to the States and I'll post them here.

Until then, via con dios.

Comments

[Kyle]

I want to thank you for the daily updates and pictures. My wife was on the trip and it was a great lifeline for me and my daughter here in AZ. thanks for your dedication.