Santa Rosa de Copán: El Comienzo

What I wrote while still in Copan Ruinas:

It occurred to me several days ago that I have never lived on my own before and will be doing it for the first time in a foreign country. I’m getting progressively more nervous because as long as I’m with people from the U.S. it is hard to really practice my Spanish and have it stick in my head. I call it the Donna Clark principle (because Donna is who I primarily associate with this concept) that if I do not think I will need to remember something for later, then it will not be burned into my memory. So in a reverse way, this is my problem.

We are currently in Copan Ruinas and it is unusual to be in such a tourist town where English and “gringos” (foreigners, most commonly white people) are prevalent. We will be able to go into the villages this week, and I look forward to that. In the meanwhile we went to go to the Mayan Ruins and the bird sanctuary here which houses birds that have been abused by their owners.

I’m definitely beginning to miss home and some U.S. accommodations—like English—but I know that some of that is due to pre-trip jitters.

After arriving in Santa Rosa:

We finished the week off strong with a zip line canopy tour. The zip line had fourteen parts, one of which was a kilometer long. I have several videos that I will upload soon to show you the excitement. Lissa was able to see a lot of patients this week at the private clinic, and each of us (the students) got to switch off observing. Many of the patients we saw didn’t have access to information about the conditions they had and we had to educate them.

For example one girl came in who looked like she had cerebral palsy and was eight years old. They told us that she had been fine when she was younger but had epilepsy. She could walk and talk before but now she had had so much brain damage from the seizures that she had spastic muscles and could only communicate through laughing and smiling or crying. They had given her medication at one of the hospitals but apparently had not regulated it well (which is crucial with epilepsy medication), and it didn’t help. Lissa showed her sister some exercises and stretches to do with her to keep her from getting contractures. After Lissa finished, we asked the sister if she wanted anything else, and she told us that she wanted to see her sister walk again. The sad reality is that the girl is now at a point where she will eventually get worse and therapy will only help delay the problems.

It has not sunk in that this starts six weeks. I am sitting in my room in Orlando’s apartment (photos to follow) and feel drained. It is exhausting to be in a foreign country with schoolwork to do, and I got rather burned out at the end of semester. It’s especially hard because I had it in my head that school would last from January to May but hadn’t mentally prepared to handle three more weeks. Now that the class is over I can begin to prepare to be overwhelmed by this trip.

Related to that note, we were talking and reading about disabilities and how it can change your life if you have a child or family member who is touched by disability. There is a hard transition from what you expected from your life and what your life now has become, and it is appropriate to grieve. The main book we read for the class was Same Lake, Different Boat by Stephanie Hubach who has a son that was born with Down’s syndrome and wrote on how her life was changed, the things she has learned through the experience, how others should respond to and support people and families with disabilities and how faith provides hope, a family and strength throughout the struggles. I would recommend it to anyone who has a family member with disability or knows anyone with a disability.

I’m beginning to understand some things that this trip will teach me. My main goal was to experiment and see if I could one-day use Physical Therapy in a developing country, and I was hoping to have a village experience. But I do not think the village experience is what I need to be challenged with. I don’t think I would have a problem living in remote places with little accommodations, but like I said, the main accommodation I miss here is English. The other side of cultural emersion that I have not considered much, is the academic aspect of language acquisition. Having taken Spanish 1 & 2 in high school and then again at college I have a good basic working knowledge, but what if I am thrown in head first for six weeks? Maybe it will show me that I am more able than I ever thought I was to learn a language (at least partially). And could I learn another language after that? And what if I simply moved somewhere after I get my doctorate (and have paid off my school loans)? But even if I do or do not end up using PT abroad, I know that this trip will help shaping me and my perspective of medical access and care wherever I serve.

It has been a reoccurring theme that I should learn to be in places where I am in need, but the irony is that in each of these places I find that I actually have something to offer. I need and am needed, and if I shift more towards one than the other I get a wake up call that either “No, you don’t have what it takes to do this alone,” or “Yes, you are valued and contributing.” It is most often when I avoid relationships that I slip into one or the other, and I think that’s why God has been taking me from myself and placing me in community. It is for iron sharpening iron—painfully at times—but there is so much meaning and joy in the end. I am not the man I should be, but I am the one whom He loves and out of whom He is making something beautiful. I know He will equip me with what I need to work for His kingdom.