day by day
The last several months have truly flown by and I can hardly believe that I only have about three weeks left in this wonderful country. For the past month or so, I have been working at one of the government run Centro de Salud´s in Cusco – a complete 180° change from the private medical clinic I was at before (which I did have the luxury of staying in this past weekend with an IV in my arm, recovering from salmonella and several other bacteria found roaming in my stomach and small intestines). These "centro de salud" health centers are the places where the general population of Cusco and the surrounding highlands come for any kind of health care, from pediatrics and obstetrics to needing a tooth pulled by the dentist (there are very few fillings done here because they are too expensive; instead if you have a cavity or a tooth that is giving you pain, they just pull it out). We have seen patients ranging from 8 days to 96 years old. When I arrive in the mornings around 7:30 or 8:00, there is a line wrapped around the outside of the building. Before entering into the main waiting room, every single patient must first go through “triaje”, where they obtain their weight, height, blood pressure, pulse, and temperature. It is a way for the doctors to be able to observe the patients´ general health, since no one goes in for check-ups or physicals after the age of 7. After just a few hours have passed in the morning, I will have easily taken over one hundred different blood pressures. I have also been assigned to work in “topico” a good bit, in which we give injections (lots of antibiotics, which you can purchase without a prescription and penicillin as well) and care for any wounds or injuries. We get to see such a range of patients here, including a little boy stabbed in the corner of his eye with a pencil (yes, this one was very difficult for me), a man with a dog bite in his arm that cut deeply through the muscle, a 16-year old girl having the stitches from her recent cesarean section removed, and an elderly woman (she only spoke the native language, Quechua) who´s toenail was almost completely ingrown and had to be removed. The people come in for minor injuries as well that simply need to be cleansed and cared for because they do not have medicines such as iodine, hydrogen peroxide, or antibacterial ointment available in the convenience of their own homes. I have really enjoyed getting to work at this place, meeting the Peruvian medical students doing their rotation here, getting to know other volunteers from Canada, Germany, England, Australia, and the US, and being able to build relationships with the wonderful doctors and nurses at this place.
Another big addition to my daily schedule over the past month or so is an afternoon volunteer position with the missionary organization called Project CORASON. Along with about four other volunteers, I travel in the afternoon a little ways out of the main city, to a more rural area. As we are walking up the dirt road to the church building where we hold our afternoon “club”, we are greeted by children running up to us, embracing us with hugs, calling out, “Hola, hermana!” The major purpose of this afternoon club for the children of this rural area is to keep them busy and entertained, so they do not get involved or drug into bad situations. Every day is a different activity, some days we just play soccer, volleyball, Frisbee, basketball, and jump rope outside. With the older kids, we will do an activity like wood-working, cooking, or making some craft out of leather. We have English classes and Bible lessons a few days throughout the week as well. The children race up the hill everyday as though it is their first day coming, and the joy that they bring is just so beautiful and encouraging. I learned about this program through the small church that I recently found through some crazy connections. After several months of truly learning what it means to be somewhat alone and without community, having to turn to and rely on God alone, and not another person, I was provided with this incredible group of Christians that hold a church service every Sunday night. I was told about this church by my Spanish teacher who´s boyfriend is a teacher at the University here and happened to have a student in his class who is a missionary from the US, but has lived here about 15 years now. The people I have met through this all have incredible stories about the work God has done in their lives here in Peru. One family lives in the rural hillside, about an hour outside of Cusco. They have eight children, biologically, two adopted from Peru, and at the moment 40 foster children living in their orphanage that they started here years ago. They are originally from the US, but the father is German, so all the children speak English, German, Spanish, Quechua, and whatever other language they chose to study in school. There are several families here who have left their lives at home to come serve in this country, as well as many students taking a gap year after high school or college, or just desiring a break from their jobs at home. So many of these people saw a need that simply needed to be met and generously donated time, money, work, or knowledge. So the most common question asked here, is “So, what are you doing here, what is your story?” Often times, if you are going to church and are from a foreign country, people will assume that you must be a missionary working on a project here in Peru. After hearing this question many, many times, I started to think about it more and about the term “missionary”, which by definition means one who is sent to witness and share their faith to all peoples of different cultures. And, isn´t that what we are all daily, called to be: in our speech, actions, and interactions with all different types of individuals. Why do we have to have the term pinned to us, be in a foreign country, or be on a specific “mission trip” to be living our lives this way? Because you meet so many incredible people here, but know in the back of your mind that you very may well never get the opportunity to see them or talk to them again in this lifetime, it truly makes you want to chose your actions when around them, as well as your words and topics of discussion wisely in order to make the most of every moment.
The last several months have truly flown by and I can hardly believe that I only have about three weeks left in this wonderful country. For the past month or so, I have been working at one of the government run Centro de Salud´s in Cusco – a complete 180° change from the private medical clinic I was at before (which I did have the luxury of staying in this past weekend with an IV in my arm, recovering from salmonella and several other bacteria found roaming in my stomach and small intestines). These "centro de salud" health centers are the places where the general population of Cusco and the surrounding highlands come for any kind of health care, from pediatrics and obstetrics to needing a tooth pulled by the dentist (there are very few fillings done here because they are too expensive; instead if you have a cavity or a tooth that is giving you pain, they just pull it out). We have seen patients ranging from 8 days to 96 years old. When I arrive in the mornings around 7:30 or 8:00, there is a line wrapped around the outside of the building. Before entering into the main waiting room, every single patient must first go through “triaje”, where they obtain their weight, height, blood pressure, pulse, and temperature. It is a way for the doctors to be able to observe the patients´ general health, since no one goes in for check-ups or physicals after the age of 7. After just a few hours have passed in the morning, I will have easily taken over one hundred different blood pressures. I have also been assigned to work in “topico” a good bit, in which we give injections (lots of antibiotics, which you can purchase without a prescription and penicillin as well) and care for any wounds or injuries. We get to see such a range of patients here, including a little boy stabbed in the corner of his eye with a pencil (yes, this one was very difficult for me), a man with a dog bite in his arm that cut deeply through the muscle, a 16-year old girl having the stitches from her recent cesarean section removed, and an elderly woman (she only spoke the native language, Quechua) who´s toenail was almost completely ingrown and had to be removed. The people come in for minor injuries as well that simply need to be cleansed and cared for because they do not have medicines such as iodine, hydrogen peroxide, or antibacterial ointment available in the convenience of their own homes. I have really enjoyed getting to work at this place, meeting the Peruvian medical students doing their rotation here, getting to know other volunteers from Canada, Germany, England, Australia, and the US, and being able to build relationships with the wonderful doctors and nurses at this place. 
Another big addition to my daily schedule over the past month or so is an afternoon volunteer position with the missionary organization called Project CORASON. Along with about four other volunteers, I travel in the afternoon a little ways out of the main city, to a more rural area. As we are walking up the dirt road to the church building where we hold our afternoon “club”, we are greeted by children running up to us, embracing us with hugs, calling out, “Hola, hermana!” The major purpose of this afternoon club for the children of this rural area is to keep them busy and entertained, so they do not get involved or drug into bad situations. Every day is a different activity, some days we just play soccer, volleyball, Frisbee, basketball, and jump rope outside. With the older kids, we will do an activity like wood-working, cooking, or making some craft out of leather. We have English classes and Bible lessons a few days throughout the week as well. The children race up the hill everyday as though it is their first day coming, and the joy that they bring is just so beautiful and encouraging. I learned about this program through the small church that I recently found through some crazy connections. After several months of truly learning what it means to be somewhat alone and without community, having to turn to and rely on God alone, and not another person, I was provided with this incredible group of Christians that hold a church service every Sunday night. I was told about this church by my Spanish teacher who´s boyfriend is a teacher at the University here and happened to have a student in his class who is a missionary from the US, but has lived here about 15 years now. The people I have met through this all have incredible stories about the work God has done in their lives here in Peru. One family lives in the rural hillside, about an hour outside of Cusco. They have eight children, biologically, two adopted from Peru, and at the moment 40 foster children living in their orphanage that they started here years ago. They are originally from the US, but the father is German, so all the children speak English, German, Spanish, Quechua, and whatever other language they chose to study in school. There are several families here who have left their lives at home to come serve in this country, as well as many students taking a gap year after high school or college, or just desiring a break from their jobs at home. So many of these people saw a need that simply needed to be met and generously donated time, money, work, or knowledge. So the most common question asked here, is “So, what are you doing here, what is your story?” Often times, if you are going to church and are from a foreign country, people will assume that you must be a missionary working on a project here in Peru. After hearing this question many, many times, I started to think about it more and about the term “missionary”, which by definition means one who is sent to witness and share their faith to all peoples of different cultures. And, isn´t that what we are all daily, called to be: in our speech, actions, and interactions with all different types of individuals. Why do we have to have the term pinned to us, be in a foreign country, or be on a specific “mission trip” to be living our lives this way? Because you meet so many incredible people here, but know in the back of your mind that you very may well never get the opportunity to see them or talk to them again in this lifetime, it truly makes you want to chose your actions when around them, as well as your words and topics of discussion wisely in order to make the most of every moment.
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