Nicaragua

For all of you wondering about my trip to Nicaragua:

My trip to Nicaragua was incredible. My dad and I drove five hours from Winnemucca to Salt Lake City and then flew out the following morning to Atlanta. We were supposed to fly out from Houston, but because of Hurricane Ike, all flights from Houston were on permanent hold. We met up with a few other team members in Atlanta and then we all flew out together to Managua, the capital of Nicaragua. We stayed in a Best Western there with our whole team and commuted on our bus each day to the little village of Los Brasiles.

We saw about 1,400 people at our clinic over about four or five days. We had a team of around 20 people and then each person had a translator. We were set up in a school so each "clinic" was inside a room of the school. Patients went first to a pastor's station where each and every one of them heard the gospel. Then they went to the nurse's station where they were sorted to whichever clinic they wanted to go to. We had an eyeglasses clinic, a gynocology clinic, a pediatrics/kids clinic, a general med clinic, a dental clinic with cleanings, fillings, and extractions, and even a mobile surgery unit, which was basically a top-rate RV revamped with an OR inside, for minor surgeries. After patients visited with a doctor they were given a "prescription" which they could take to the pharmacy. We had a ton of medications, but of course we were mostly distributing things like tylenol, antiparasitics, antibiotics, cough medicine, vitamins, and other basic medications. In addition to the clinic, our team also held a vacation Bible school for kids and a week-long workshop for about fifteen local pastors and their wives.

I worked mostly in the dental clinic, holding flashlights as lights for fillings and prepping syringes and trays for the dentists. Let me just tell you that extractions are not at all fun to watch. I also got to observe a minor surgery, which was pretty interesting. I worked with the kids quite a bit, in and out of the VBS. They really liked having their picture taken and then seeing themselves on the camera's screen. Our team also split up sometimes to do "house calls" to bring medical attention to the few people who were too sick or too handicapped to make it to the clinic. Unfortunately, if they were too sick come a short ways to the clinic, they were usually too sick for us to help them in any substantial way. My dad and I went on a couple of house calls, but we weren't able to really provide any medical aid so much as spiritual support.

At one particular home, where a family of eleven lived, we saw several patients. The grandmother had had hip surgery a few years ago, but her hip hadn't healed correctly and as a result she could no longer walk without excruciating pain. We provided the woman with some painkillers, but could do nothing for her legs, even though she pleaded with us to give a medication that would let her walk again. Her son had been an alcoholic for most of his life and had probably been sick for a long time. By examining him we discovered that his liver and kidney failure was pretty advanced; we gave him some medication for pain, but his condition is fatal. The last family member we saw was the sixteen-year-old granddaughter who was pregnant out of wedlock. The girl had a minor rash, so my dad gave her a cream that would take care of it. Just by chance (or maybe it was a God thing?) my dad had happened to bring his fetal Doppler heart tone monitor. When that girl heard her baby's heartbeat for the first time...it was so amazing. Our translator was just as moved as he said "There is life!"

By Saturday we had packed up the temporary clinic, but we planned to make a quick stop at the dump, which is pretty much acres and acres of trash. For as far as you can see, it's just mountains of trash in all directions. The worst part isn't the garbage, it's the thousands of people who live inside the dump, collecting and selling recyclables because they have no other way to survive. We had thought Los Brasiles was poor, but the dump community was the definition of abject poverty. These people had made their homes out of trash and scraps from the dump. It was especially sad to see barefoot kids, clothed in rags, collecting trash for their families.

We left on Sunday, from Managua to Atlanta to Salt Lake again. Unfortunately, our luggage was lost because we switched flights, but it was delivered to our home Monday morning. The five hour drive back from Salt Lake Sunday night was a time for reflection and digestion of all that we'd seen and experienced. I went to school the next day and my dad returned to work and even though it seems like our routines haven't changed, I know neither one of us will ever be the same.

Coming back to the States after a trip like this is difficult. To see the opportunities and freedoms and luxuries we as Americans are afforded is astounding. In a few days you'll sit down to a huge thanksgiving meal, and as you do that remember what God has given you and really really thank Him for that. And please say a prayer for the Nicaraguans in Los Brasiles and in the dump, that God would bless them and take care of them and that they would come to know him. This account has taken me numerous sit-downs to write, so I apologize that it's taken me so long. And this isn't even the whole story. It's so hard to put into words the sights and sounds and tastes of Nicaragua, the poverty, the pollution, the people. But this is the best I can do.

Thanks so much for your prayers and support,


Katy