The Stickers of Faith & Love Left on My Heart

 The Stickers of Faith & Love Left on My Heart 

A week has passed since I returned from Guatemala, yet my heart is still in the clinic. Every morning, I wake up wishing I were back there, doing work that felt truly meaningful and transformative. I miss greeting new patients, bringing laughter to children, and offering comfort to those in pain or fear. Now that I’m home, I feel a sense of guilt for no longer making a difference in the same powerful way I did at the clinic. Still, I remind myself that this was just the start. Those experiences are now part of me, and they motivate me to do everything in my power to pursue a healthcare career that fills me with the same purpose and passion. These memories also give me hope that one day I will return to the clinic and offer more of myself, including my privilege, my love, and my education, to the people of Guatemala. 

Among the many memories and things I’ve learned, one experience continues to resonate with me. On Thursday morning, the third day of the clinic, I was on the glasses rotation and met a 10-year-old boy and his father. The family first stopped at the glasses table to get the little boy a pair of reading glasses. Antonio and I were able to find him the perfect pair of reading glasses, which was a rare occurrence, especially for kids, because of their need for smaller frames. After choosing a grey glasses case, he started coloring with some crayons and a Paw Patrol coloring book at the table. 

About thirty minutes later, I noticed he was still sitting there, fully engaged in coloring. Curious, I went to triage to learn more and discovered that his father was there for internal medicine and physical therapy appointments. Realizing the family would likely be at the clinic for most of the day, I decided to sit with the boy, talk to him, and color alongside him to help pass the time. I was even more grateful I had done so when I later found out why his father had come to the clinic. Respecting their privacy, I will only share that his father is a recent amputee who was injured while trying to build a better life for his children in the United States. He didn’t come to the clinic for his well-being, but to learn strengthening exercises and begin exploring options for a prosthetic so he could eventually return to work and provide for his kids. 

As he attended his appointments, I learned that he was able to genuinely open up with our team—something that may have been difficult had his son been present with him the entire time. Spending time with the boy, I saw that same warmth in his eyes and in the way he engaged with me. At first, I was nervous about having a deeper conversation with him since my Spanish is limited to basic greetings and medical terms, but I’m thankful I didn’t let that hold me back. As we colored, he began to tell me about his family and favorite hobbies. He shared that he loves to draw, and when I told him I did too, I showed him the tattoos I had designed myself. His eyes lit up, and he began identifying different crayon colors in English. I was amazed. He then asked me to teach him more colors in English, and in return, he taught me the Spanish names for animals I hadn’t known. We spent nearly an hour coloring and talking, and I could tell he was beginning to open up to me. Later, Kat and I came up with the idea to braid some string into a DIY glasses strap so he could wear his reading glasses around his neck when he wasn’t using them. Throughout the rest of the morning and into the early afternoon, I made sure to check in on him every chance I had. I could sense his comfort in talking to me, and I wanted to

provide that safe space as much as I could. Just before lunch, I spoke with his father in the waiting area and told him how talented his son was at drawing, which brought a huge smile to his face. The family didn’t leave until mid-afternoon, but before they did, the boy returned to give me two stickers and say goodbye. That simple gesture meant the world to me and made the entire day unforgettable. 

Among the many unforgettable stories I could share from this trip, I feel compelled to focus on this family's story, along with the experiences I shared with them and the medical team, because they reflect many of the lessons I’ve learned and the values that guide me as I strive to become the best healthcare provider I can be. This experience reminded me how essential communication is in healthcare and how powerful it is to make patients feel heard, understood, and cared for. I realized that language is just one of many barriers that can arise between providers and patients, but it should not be a reason to give up or hold back. This realization also confirmed my decision to pursue a Spanish minor. As someone who dealt with medical challenges from a young age, I often felt judged or dismissed by healthcare professionals who didn’t believe what I was going through. That disconnection shaped my desire to become the type of healthcare provider I needed when I was younger. While learning Spanish is only one way to achieve that, I have determined that for my goals, it's an essential step in making sure my patients never feel unheard or excluded. I also came to understand how crucial communication is in creating genuine connections with patients, which helps providers care for the entire person rather than just focusing on physical symptoms. In addition, I realized the value of a strong, collaborative medical team and how it directly enhances the care patients receive. The permanent staff at the clinic and the team I traveled with are truly outstanding individuals. They are intelligent, dedicated to teaching, compassionate, and committed to both their patients and each other. I witnessed how this type of team made patients feel welcomed and comfortable, which helped build trust between patients and their doctors. Being part of that dynamic was a privilege and helped me serve patients more empathetically. 

There are so many takeaways from this trip, just as there are countless memories, that I simply don’t have the time or space to put them all into words. But I will conclude by saying this. In the smallest acts of kindness at the clinic and within the community of La Ciudad de la Esperanza, I 

saw a kind of love that was selfless and constant. It strengthened my faith in what humanity is capable of and confirmed for me that there is something greater guiding us all. I saw firsthand how God’s love embraces and connects people of all spiritual paths, while also gaining a deeper appreciation for the importance of understanding and respecting each patient's unique beliefs and cultural values. I felt the love many patients gave to me through kind words or gentle hugs, and I expressed my love back through simple gestures and sitting together in prayer. On the last day of clinic, just before closing, I met a sweet little boy named Henry. Some of us students played with him for about an hour, and his joy was contagious as he smiled and lit up with his new toys. During his appointment with Dr. Lauri, he had covered his face in stickers and then began putting them on all of us so we could match. As we were getting ready to leave, he put on his Lightning McQueen hat, opened an umbrella, and packed his toy car full of the toys he had collected. He gave me a huge hug, and I hugged him right back. I had to get ready for Shabbat dinner, but it was hard to say goodbye. I walked away in tears, careful not to smudge the

stickers he’d put on my face. Wearing those stickers, I didn’t just carry a child’s joy—I carried the weight and warmth of a community’s love. Being chosen for this trip was a gift. While I was able to make a difference in others’ lives, I was equally transformed by the experience and all it brought into my life. It almost feels self-centered to focus on what this journey has brought into my life, but I trust that the love it gave me will help me become a better source of love and support for others. Thank you for letting me be part of a memory, a journey, and a purpose that reminded me of who I am and who I hope to become. 

Con amor, 

Ava DeBell

Words Heal the Soul, Body and Spirit, by Mishel

Dr Lauri, Diana, Dr Richard, Mishel
Diana and Mishel are sisters and have been translating for us for 14 years

 

 I have been an interpreter for several consecutive years for Dr. Richard Walter, a person I admire not only for his nobility but for his passion for his profession. Over the years, working together, I have recognized that not only should patients be physically examined, but it is also essential to know how to listen.

The right word at the right time can change a person's mood, make important decisions, and allow them to move forward even when they are experiencing pain.

On behalf of all my Guatemalan brothers and sisters who are treated during the Regis University Interfaith Project, I want to express my gratitude. Each year, they bring doctors (an internist, a pediatrician, a 

physical, therapist, and a dentist), along with medications, supplies, payment for blood tests, and now solar panels and much more.

With their arrival, year after year, they provide a new opportunity for several families in the community of Cobán. The people of Coban have dreams and goals, and we are very hard workers, yet circumstances make us suffer in many ways.

In my experience with Dr. Richard Walter, I can see that people come with the hope of being treated, with faith and determination that they will be helped, and yes, that's true. Now there is a doctor-patient relationship that was unthinkable a few years ago.

I want to thank all of you who year after year work with dedication, care, collecting, and cooperating to come to Guatemala and leave your months of work behind in just one week of medical clinic.

I want to thank you for providing help to your Guatemalan brothers and sisters who need these clinics. Our healthcare system is precarious, but with the effort you make, you are saving lives. Lives that thank you from the bottom of their hearts and from mine. 

Thank you for making me part of this project and being able to collaborate with my brothers and sisters at Ciudad de La Esperanza , because with this I can give back a little of what life has blessed me with. We will pray for all of you and that this project continues for many more years

Mishel

Dr Richard and Etty, a very special young woman

A Week with the Regis Interfaith Medical Team in Guatemala, by Matt Muller

 A week with the Regis interfaith medical team in Guatemala by Matt Muller

I had been invited to join the team to install solar panels on one of the buildings at Cuidad de la Esperanza  a number a months ago.  In the interim I had had several calls to discuss the installation details with Juan Pablo and Perla with Stephanie and Ricky as interpreters.   Everyone was very helpful and kind but it was clear that I was not going to be able to plan all the details of the installation from the United States.  I focused my pre-trip efforts on doing my best to pack the necessary tools and equipment that I would not be able to readily purchase in Coban.  Ultimately, the kindness and past stories I had heard of the great work of the medical team and those at Ciudad de la Esperanza gave me the faith that the installation would be made possible by the team on the ground in Coban.

DAY 1 MONDAY

For me the real journey began with packing dozens of suitcases with medical supplies at Regis Sunday May 4th.  This was my first in-depth interaction with some of the students going on the trip and hearing more about our itinerary.  I of course could have asked details prior to jumping into things but I had been so busy with work deadlines that I chose to trust that I was in great hands.  Around 12 hours later we were on the ground in Guatemala City loading Perla’s truck and our bus roof with all the suitcases for a long slow drive to Coban.  Lauri had mentioned as we were handling suitcases, “be sure to have the fan bag accessible”.  This seemed a bit strange thing to say…. why would fans be the first item?  As we loaded the bus each of us was handed a little battery powered fan for cooling ourselves.  I had already noticed the bus was a fairly new Hyundai and saw AC vents so I was still a bit confused.  A bit into the drive Ricky asked everyone to close the windows and said we were going to try the AC.  It became clear that past bus experiences had proven you should not count on the US comfort of AC.    I believe the outside temperature climbed to around 90 so my falling apart body was happy for both whatever the AC could muster and for the distraction of the fan as was we progressed through what turned out to be a seven hour drive.     We ate PB&J sandwiches made in route and stopped once for a quick bathroom break and some ice cream.  My stomach was craving something more after an overnight flight but I recall somehow thinking that the whole bus scenario is somehow good or fitting….we are heading to help some of the poorest people in the world…its probably important that we have to give up some of our creature comforts of the rich US.  

Just like the rest of the trip, I had not asked about accommodations.  Dave from the Regis choir had mentioned other Regis trips where people stayed in houses of volunteers from the local communities so I figured it would be something like this or some facility associated with a local church.  I was surprised when we pulled into a very nice hotel as most of our drive had passed through what appeared to be poor communities.  We unloaded personal suitcases and gathered for a nice meal and instructions for the next day before my cramping muscles made it to the comfort of a hot shower.  I remember having gratitude for the shower and the thought that I could not have made this journey just a short year and a half ago before starting duloxetine.   My head hit the pillow and I was out for the night.

DAY2 TUESDAY

The next morning we all met outside the restaurant to start the day.  My heart felt at peace with all the singing birds and the lush green surroundings.  I was light years away from the stress of a country crumpling before my eyes and was nourished both physically by those that had prepared food and spiritually by the environment and the energy of all those that were on the trip.  We took a short bus ride to the clinic and it was quick to work.  While all the students were getting suitcases to various clinic locations I found my tools and Ricky found me a room to serve as a base for my work.  I was introduced to Nery; he spoke no English but was ready to help me in any way he could.  I don’t recall if Perla or Ricky served as an initial translator, but we worked getting a ladder, accessing the roof, and finding the present location of the solar panels.  Excellent the panels had shipped unharmed! My first little blessing was that the painters that were on site helped to carry all the solar panels to the ladder while Nery and I pulled them up two stories with a rope.  All 8 panels made it to the roof and were light work due to helping hands.   We moved on to track how power fed through the various buildings of Ciudad de la Esperanza. One of my biggest concerns was how I would connect power from the solar panels into the campus power.  Over video calls we had talked of running power all the way to the first floor of the clinic where there was room in a breaker box.  This was doable but was clearly going to be a lot of work.  Now that I understand how the clinic functions, I believe this option would have required after hours work so as not to disrupt all the amazing work that the team squeezes into that building.  I don’t know if I would have had the energy to work night and day so the second blessing was finding a open conduit adjacent to the location of the intended solar panel location.  I believe Juan Pablo had wanted me to run the wiring to the clinic because in his understanding this is how I would offset the energy use of the clinic.  Now that I understood the power feed to the whole campus it was clear that the open conduit feeding the building I was already working on would be the simplest solution.  Plans were now coming together and I made a list of missing items and headed out with Perla to buy what was needed.  

Matt's view all week

Perla and I first headed to a place called Joey’s solar where hopefully we would pick up all the needed racking materials.   We pulled up to hole in the wall type warehouse building where Perla started conversing with a couple of locals inside.  I looked around to assess what type of materials they had.  My first assessment was that the racking was not as robust as what is used in the US but I should be able to make it work.  We progressed through a translation of the basic design I had planned and found that I would need to switch the solar panels from landscape to portrait orientation.  I was a bit hesitant to do this as this would increase wind loading.   Regardless we moved forward with the change in orientation and started to communicate the full list of materials.  While the two men were gathering and tallying the items, I asked Perla if he would ask about regulations for interconnection to the power grid.  Up until now I had been told several times, “no problem”, in Guatemala you can do what you want.   There was a bit of back forth but eventually the from Joey’s solar understood the situation and Perla said, “ahh ahh I did not know this!”  We will visit the utility. They can fine you if you do not consult with them.”   Perla and I had some follow-up conversations about this but he would consult Juan Pablo to ensure the appropriate decisions were made.  This was my second little blessing.  I had concerns about the previous answers I had been given and didn’t see it as my call to connect to the grid without following the rules appropriate to Coban.  We were given a price for the materials but then headed off to an ATM as Joey’s only accepted cash.  We also hit Cemaco (the local version of Home Depot) to purchase wire, an electrical breaker, concrete anchors and a bit for my hammer drill.  Perla graciously invited me to lunch at one of his favorite restaurants in Coban where I got a taste of some local food and some time to recoup and recenter myself.  

Matt on the roof creating the frames for the solar panels

We returned to the clinic and I focused on confirming the electrical plan would work while Perla  touched base with Ricky for anything he might need.  I took the cover off the second floor electrical panel and found out that the breaker was not going to fit in that box. From Perla’s perspective the easiest option would be that I replace the electrical box with a new larger one.  Fundamentally this was doable but past experience suggested I would need at least a day to do this.  I would also need to do this outside the teaching hours of 7 to  3:30 and I would have to do some live electrical work.   Nery seemed to have some other thoughts but because of my poor Spanish these weren’t yet clear.  It seemed that he thought one of the conduits out of the second floor box might allow me to pass through to a first-floor box.  We went to the ground floor and confirmed breaker space and then proceeded to see if I could get a test wire through to the first floor.  I pushed about halfway down and then hit obstructions.  This is when my next little blessing hit.  Nery had left the area and went off to get what is called “fishing wire” for pulling through electrical conduits.  In this case I was surprised because almost every tool I had asked Nery if the clinic had a tool, his answer was “NO”.  In this case he found some wire that they make do with and he started pushing up from the ground floor to the second floor.  I soon saw his wire poke out into the second floor box proving we had a solution for completing the power tie in.  It was now as simple as asking Perla if he would pick up some longer wire while he was out picking up the racking materials from Joey’s.  Fast forwarding through more minor details I was able to end the first day connecting in the electrical as planned and confirming the racking layout would work.  When the medical team asked me how the first day had went I was very pleased and amazed to say that all the major obstacles had been overcome. It would be a step by step putting pieces together from here.  That’s more than I could expect when starting a project from scratch in the US with a wide array of tools and resources at my fingertips. This is hard to imagine in a country where my grasp of the language is poor, I don’t have my own transportation, and I don’t know where to readily acquire typical materials.  After our bus ride back to the hotel we went straight to dinner.   The medical team followed dinner with a daily debrief.  I wanted to join but was just too exhausted and headed to my room for a shower, touching base with JoAnn and then hitting the bed to recharge for the next day.

Day3 (Wednesday)

I woke up ready to roll today.  I headed to breakfast at the same time as the day before but missed that we would start half an hour later.  This gave me a chance to sit in one of the rockers outside the restaurant and meditate to the beautiful bird songs in the background.  I once again had to take note of gratitude that I was here and able to go another day.  Without my medicine I couldn’t image starting another day on the roof.  How amazing it is to be given a second chance in life to do what you love most.  After the bus drive I was able to go straight to the roof and begin laying out the locations to drill into the concrete. The sun was already strong on my back as I started to drill holes.  I think I had a few holes complete when Nery popped over the top of the ladder and begin to say something to me in Spanish.  I had found yesterday that body language and broken Spanish was not enough to give Nery technical instructions to help me.  In reality I could have proceeded most easily on my own but Nery seemed eager to learn the extra time here was an obvious chance to “teach a man to fish rather than giving him fish”.  Our default translation system was audio on my phone which had seemed to work the day before.  I wondered if Nery knew how to read as he only seemed to respond to audio as compared to me showing him Spanish words.  I tried to work out a flow where I could drill holes and Nery could apply epoxy for setting anchors in place.  In my typical fashion I rushed a bit trying to give Nery something do as compared to standing idle.  There were a few challenges created due to my rush but they were problems that could be solved.  My recollection is that the anchors were all in place by about 1 pm.  Nery and I had found a reasonable method of teamwork and it was time for a break from the hot sun.  I needed another gallon of water and some more food so I headed to the ground for some rest.  I had applied sunscreen the same as the day before but Eric said my neck looked like a lobster.  In the shade I got a chance to watch a little more what was going on outside the clinic. It’s a bit of a blur of exhaustion at this point but I believe that day some welcoming cooling rain came.  With the cooler air I regained the energy to make modifications to the legs so they could be attached to the anchors.  The day ended with I believe all 16 legs ready to go and a hope to finish the install on Thursday.

With my optimism of completion on Thursday I mentally committed to attending the medical debrief that night.  I think I had time to shower the sweat and grime off before dinner, renewing me for both dinner and attention for the debrief.   This was my first attendance at any sort of discussion with the whole group.  I had been told the debriefs get quite emotional so I had a reasonable understanding of what I was going into.  Everyone shared each of their rotation experiences and sometimes heartfelt moments with particular patients.  There was lots of love and energy in the room and I assumed I would be eventually asked to share my day.  As I thought about this, my mind came to my gratitude for being able to be here, my body functioning, getting to do work I enjoy, and hopefully the work resulting in long term returns to the community.   I am an engineer, a researcher and an economist so my mind can't help consider the opportunity cost.  Would the savings of my labor be greater than all the resources (money, jet fuel, Perla’s time, food and more) that it took enable me to be in this place.  I could clearly see that the program was amazingly well organized, wasn’t a vacation in disguise for the students, and was transforming the students so I felt as a bit of an imposter in the room as a simple solar installer.  When it came time for me to speak I tried to convey my gratitude for all the team was doing, the opportunity to witness their work and the idea that so far I was quite removed from the clinic experience being up on the roof.

Day 4 Thursday

The racking went together quickly on Thursday morning and Nery and I mounted solar panels on the rack before lunch.  I went ahead and electrically connected the panels to make sure everything was working as expected.  So far so good, so I showed Nery how he could see that each panel was producing power and explained to him what he might want to watch for in the future.  I had already been expecting it based on piecing the racking together, but I confirmed with everything in place that the racking was weaker than desired in the event of high winds.   My mind had been playing around with ideas on how I would stiffen it but this would depend on what supplies I could find at Cemaco.   Deb had asked if I could build a walker for a kid with cerebral palsy and so the next step would be a run to the store to find options for bracing the rack and materials to work with for the walker.  I had some time to spare before Perla could take me shopping so I got some food and had a bit of a chance to interact with some kids outside the clinic and seeing some of the students in action.  Later at Cemaco I found wheels for a walker but was still looking for options for the structure and how to secure or support the used.  Perla had built a walker out of PVC in the past but I wasn’t seeing anything strong enough at Cemaco.  I asked about wood but Perla said we would have to go to a wood workshop for that.  He let his memory take us around town until he found this cool wood shop where they built beautiful furniture but also had a mill on site.  Inside I sketched out some basics of what I would need; Perla translated and next thing you know we are wandering around that stacks of drying wood out in the yard to find small pieces that would work.  The dried rough sawn wood was then handed off to a couple of guys in the mill and minutes later they handed me wood planed to the dimensions I had given.  Service like that in the US would have cost me a $100 minimum but the total charge was like $8.   I am a furniture builder so this little side trip was something unexpected to add to my gratitude list for the week.  The work day was ending when Perla and I got back to the clinic so I put the supplies away and sat down at the entrance to wait.  Dianna’s daughters were coloring so I tested a bit of my Spanish and asked if I could color with them.  Laury (age 5) I think initially said no because she had a clear plan of how she was going to complete her picture.  I joined her little sister instead but after my coloring skills met Laury’s approval she gave me instructions on what sections I could join in on.  I really enjoyed just getting to speak Spanish with her and joke around.  At the end of our coloring session she announced, “Mi Amigo” and gave me a big hug.   We had a great ride back on the bus together where I was showing her pictures on my phone and asking her questions in Spanish.  I think we got back late that night.   I don’t remember the exact details but I passed on debrief because I was afraid I wouldn’t get enough sleep to squeeze in all the remaining tasks on Friday.  I clearly was a bit worried that getting a walker figured out and buttoning up the solar might be too much for the last day as I woke up multiple times that night dreaming about the work to complete.

The installed panels!

The panels installed on the roof of the lab

Day 5 Friday

I first worked with Nery to add the additional supports to the solar rack.  The equipment I got worked perfectly but somehow I miscounted parts at Cemaco so the system was not quite complete.   I had failed the day before to find something to serve as a support belt for the walker so hopefully one trip into town and I could take care of solar and walker parts all at once.  Talking to several people on the team I was hopeful that I could find a weight belt or a construction type support belt that would work for the walker.  Perla took me to a construction store first where I found a Velcro style construction harness that with cutting and needle and thread should fit the waist size of a kid.  We were going to head to Cemaco but we got a call that Stephanie needed to come to town as well.  We swung by and grabbed Stephanie and upon return to town they dropped me at Cemaco while they ran some errands.  I was starting to feel like a local because the guy working in the nuts and bolts section saw me coming and ran the other way.  Just kidding!, he knew I was the guy that was using the phone to translate for strange requests the day before and here I am now asking for needle and thread.  I couldn’t help thinking he must be really confused by a gringo asking for odd nuts and bolts and now sewing supplies.  Needless to say he was very kind and tried to help me in any way he could.  I got the solar parts but failed on needle and thread.  Eventually Stephanie and Perla came by and picked me up and we all chatted about where to possibly get sewing supplies before I jumped in the back of the truck.   Rain was rolling in and I noticed that we were heading back to the clinic even though we hadn’t stopped at another store.  I was a little worried the walker was being given up on but when we rolled in Stephanie said she had located both needle in thread in the clinic.   The rain was coming down hard now and the rest of the team was beginning to recover suitcases for packing in Perla’s truck.  I wasn’t sure what the timeline was for the evening other than knowing we were having a Shabbot dinner at the school before we would return to the hotel.  Stephanie had given me the needle and thread so I was wanting to rush off to get to work on finishing the walker.  Instead, I quickly packed many of my tools in a suitcase and left them with those loading the truck.  I then started sewing as fast as I could on the cut down belt.  Deb had said maybe there wasn’t time to finish the project but that idea was too hard for me to swallow.  I was thinking of everyone heading to dinner and just staying back to work until I was finished.  Maybe I could just sew on the side at dinner?  About then Dr. Lauri came in the building to show some others the new lab spaces.  She asked what I was doing and then told me she had sewn her own wedding dress…also happy to take over.  She sent me off to get cleaned up for dinner while she stitched at twice my pace.  She soon had the belt done and I found Deb to take a look at how we would tie the belt onto the walker itself.  Before I knew it we were taking a picture in front of what we hoped would work for the young boy.   We all wished we could see how well it would work but we would have to wait to get pictures back from Juan Pablo.  In that moment I felt part of this team that works so well together to make little miracles happen.  I don’t know if I could have finished walker before Shabot on my own but regardless I was full of gratitude that Dr. Lauri could offer her hands of help and I could feel more relaxed going into dinner.

Matt and Deb with the newly finished gait trainer for an 8 yr old with CP

We all soon gathered for dinner and were sitting at tables waiting to start the celebration when someone said, “we are just waiting for wine to be opened”.  Dr Christian asked me if I had any of my tools that we could use in place of a corkscrew.  Hmmm,  I thought,  I had saved a few things behind and maybe there was something that would work.  We both went out of the building to see what I had kept for the last-minute walker work.  What was in the bag was just right (a cordless drill, a wood screw and a crescent wrench).  We came back to the cafeteria and opened the first bottle together to an ovation from the room.  I would never have imagined that I would be opening wine with my drill and getting an ovation.  Ciudad de la Esperanza is definitely a place where special encounters are actually the norm.  The Shabbot was of course a true gathering of loved ones and gratitude was the theme of the night.  The celebration included a wonderful Mariachi band.  I wished that I knew the words so I could join in the boisterous singing but I would have to learn them for next year.  I must say I was so exhausted that I only let myself have a sip or two of wine for fear I would collapse before the night was over.  I enjoyed it very much, but I was so thankful when I was able to lay my head on the pillow that night.

Matt and Christian opening the wine with Matt's drill!

THE WEEKEND

Matt securing luggage on the bus

Saturday morning would be an early departure on a long drive to Antigua followed by a full debrief and a social night over dinner.  Sunday we had breakfast together and then everyone was given time to freely explore Antigua before we would all gather at a place called the Forest.  At the forest we shared in a Mayan spiritual ritual and then celebrated the evening with food, drink and just enjoying each other’s company.  Although I choose not to describe these last two days in the journal fashion I applied to the work days, they were special in many ways.  I still don’t know every student’s name but I had time sitting by the fire, on a bus ride or elsewhere just to get to know some of them and a bit of their stories.  In the debrief on Saturday I had more to share of myself, more feelings of belonging to this group, and a definite desire to return next year with a personal commitment to get to know the team early in the journey.  I also promised myself to work on my Spanish for the next 365 days.  I was able to piece together much more of the amazing background and history that has formed the miracle of the medical team over many years.  Antonio brought up the thought that a movie needs to be made to record their rich history.  His passing comment quickly turned into much interest and passion to make the thought become reality.  I am eager for the day that I watch a documentary on the journey from Haiti to Cuidad de la Esperanza by “Tortoise and Hare productions”  (a connection Antonio and I made from our experience with Mayan spiritual leader 😊).  Antonio also brought to my attention the phrase “Whispering Providence” that I am told has been used often in relation to this trip.  I can’t imagine a better phrase to describe my experience over this week even if Dr. Lauri is a master at listening and finding opportunities to whisper words in the right ears (in my case that magic word was ssollarrrr…).  I have the deepest gratitude to the whole medical team and all that work to make this trip possible every year.  In the crazy times of our country all you students are a hope and inspiration for a better future.  My heart goes out to you!  God willing, I will be on this trip in a year and I am sure it will bless me in a 100 new ways.

Matt Muller (solar engineer May 2025)

What makes Coban Beautiful

I finally understand why this community is referred to as “the city of hope.” This isn’t an ordinary clinic, it’s a place where patients open up their entire hearts to you, where you create meaningful relationships, were you become a family, and where families leave with a sense of hope that everything will be okay. 

There are no words to adequately describe how incredible and special the people of Cobán truly are. They completely took me by surprise. Like any other place in the world, there is a lot of  pain, suffering, and poverty. However, what sets the patients at Ciudad de Esperanza apart is that they walk in with the biggest smiles on their faces—you would never know they’re sick or in pain. 

There are patients who travel for hours—on foot or by bus—just to receive medical care. They wait in the blazing sun or sit through pouring rain for hours before being seen, and yet, they never complain. Instead, they thank you. To me, that speaks volume about the faith and trust they have in our medical team.  

I strongly believe that what keeps bringing patients back to Ciudad de Esperanza is that they know that the doctors truly care for them and want to help them. The patients don’t expect you to have all the answers about their health, but they come seeking affirmation that their concerns are real. Too often, they’ve been seen by other providers who simply prescribe random medications that neither help nor address the root of the problem.

For instance, on my fourth day at the clinic, I was working with Dr. Richard when an older patient came in. He was smiling, laughing, and very polite—he seemed completely fine on the outside. However, as we began discussing his concerns, he revealed that he had been losing weight, frequently experienced stomach pain, had blurry vision, burning during urination, and persistent headaches. One symptom followed another—this man was clearly in a great deal of pain.

A previous doctor had diagnosed him with cirrhosis of the liver and prescribed medication, but that diagnosis was incorrect. It was something else entirely, though we didn’t yet know what. Dr. Richard went on to perform a very thorough examination. As he examined the patient, he taught me how to assess liver size by tapping fingers and listening carefully to the difference in sound. He explained what to look for and why it almost certainly couldn’t be cirrhosis. He walked me through other possible conditions and used the process of elimination to narrow down the possibilities. While we didn’t reach a definitive diagnosis that day, Dr. Richard asked the patient to return for further testing.

There’s more to the story, but what stayed with me was the lesson I learned from watching Dr. Richard, as well as the other members of the medical team: the importance of taking time with your patients. I deeply appreciated the care and attention they gave to each person. Anyone can hear what a patient says—but truly listening is something else entirely. I admired how, when Dr. Richard didn’t have an answer, he admitted it. Not every healthcare provider is willing to do that. I also admired that the doctors encouraged us to be vulnerable; they told us that vulnerability is a strength and that it’s what will make us great in our future professions. It was comforting to hear that. Through this experience, I also realized that you don’t always need high-tech equipment to make an impact—just careful observation, curiosity, and a willingness to listen.

Overall, being at the clinic changed my perspective on many things. It was a beautiful experience, and I will forever be grateful that I got to be a part of it. I built relationships with many individuals, got to know myself much better, and experienced what it means to be a great health provider. I had the privilege of learning from the best mentors. 

Guatemala is a very rich country—and I don’t mean economically. It’s rich because it’s filled with gratitude, faith and love; its people are what make it truly beautiful and a part of my heart will always remain in Guatemala.

• Karen Jurado Gomez 

The Girl in the Mirror

Arriving in Coban, felt like an out of body experience… just a few months ago it was nothing more than a picture painted in my mind. An idea, and a dream. But now, it has transformed into something real— something that I was able to touch, and feel. I ran my fingers across the mural on the wall, taking in its vibrant colors and the deep symbolism behind each detail. I traced the heart-shaped hole in the tree where flowers bloomed. I felt the warmth of the sun and the gentle kiss of the rain on my skin.

The experience went far beyond the physical. I felt the weight of the pain carried by each patient who entered our room—their fears, their uncertainties. But I also felt the waves of relief when doctors reassured them they would be okay. I felt the joy, the gratitude, and the love that poured out through simple gestures: a prayer, a smile, a thank you, a hug.

I met some of the most incredible human beings—people with big dreams and goals. One moment that stays with me happened during a break, when I was outside drawing with a few sweet children. A five-year-old girl named Luna looked up at me and said, “I want to learn how to read.” I told her, “Very soon, they’ll teach you in school, and you’ll be a great reader.” But she responded, “I want to learn now. I want to be able to read books.”

Her eagerness moved me. So, right there, we turned our drawings into a mini reading lesson. We went through the alphabet, practiced sounds, and read a few simple words—one of them being her name. Her face lit up with joy. Then she asked me, “Next time you come, can you bring books for me to read?” At first, I didn’t know what to say—I wasn’t sure I’d ever be back. But looking into her bright eyes, I found myself saying, “Of course I will.” And in that moment, I realized: this wasn’t goodbye. It was “until we meet again.”

Throughout these last couple of years I have been on a mission to find myself— to find what I am called to do. There were countless moments where I have doubted myself, wondering if I am meant to become a nurse. Countless nights of prayer asking for guidance. Looking at the reflection on the mirror was all a blur, I couldn’t recognize who the person that was staring back at me was. 

But in Coban, something changed. I saw myself grow with each patient I helped, with each lesson I learned from the doctors and nurses around me. This is what I’m meant to do. This is my calling. I want to be the one who puts the “care” in healthcare. I want to spread love, hope, and healing to those around me. 

Now, when I look at myself in the mirror, the reflection isn’t blurry, there’s no confusion. I see the person I am meant to be. 

-Brisa Celeste Avila

All Roads Lead to Faith

Sitting in on appointments with Dr. Richard and sharing parting words with patients with Dr. Eric today, I couldn’t help but wonder... in the face of immense challenges—where it would be easy to fall into hopelessness—how do these beautiful people go on every day? When life throws unfair curveballs, when resources are scarce, when pain lingers longer than it should, how are they stronger than I could ever be? Not only do the amazing people of Coban (and further) rise above seemingly "limiting" circumstances, they show up with sparkling smiles, champion attitudes, and an unprecedented kindness.

My observed answer to this question is faith.
Faith in their deeply connected communities.
Faith in our medical team. 
Faith in God.

But it’s more than belief for these wonderful individuals—it’s a way of living. From the moment we arrived, they welcomed us in, not just into their clinic visits, but into their stories, their struggles, and their sacred moments. Today a beautiful woman who had known Dr. Eric and I for only minutes grabbed our hands, bowed with us, and began to pray with a depth that was humbling. Her faith was generous, immediate, and unguarded and this represents many of the people I have had the privilege to come in contact with throughout the week. 

But also, as I witnessed today, sometimes, we don’t have the answers or the resources for patients, even when we so badly want to. Sometimes all we can offer is acknowledgement and hope. But still—patients met us with trust. Still, they prayed. Not just for healing, but for us. 

This kind of faith is something I won’t forget. It’s a faith that doesn’t erase suffering, but somehow, transforms it.

Witnessing this kind of faith in the midst of struggle has not only moved me, it’s changed the way I show up here. In many ways, it’s made space for our own kind of faith to grow too. As students, we’ve been stretched. We’ve seen things we weren’t fully prepared for, we’ve felt the weight of wanting to help but not always knowing how, and in those moments, we’ve had to lean on each other immensely.

This trip has stripped away the small talk. We've gone from distant classmates to a family. We process the heavy moments together, share the quiet ones, laugh endlessly and rally when the day demands more of us than we think we can have to give. It’s become clear that with each other and the out-of-this-world medical team, we're not doing this alone. We all decided to lock in with each other and boy did we (Shoutout Lavender Ladies + John and Mason) 

As a whole, we’ve become a team in the truest sense.

And that, too, is faith. Faith that even in unfamiliar territory, you are not alone.

 I will leave Coban with something far more lasting that I ever thought possible: a witness to resilient faith, a deeper trust in community, and a circle of teammates who have become lifelong friends. This experience reminded me that healing isn’t just found in medicine—it’s found in presence and in prayer. 

And maybe that’s what this trip has truly taught me: that in the face of challenge, connection carries us. I'm grateful for this team. I'm grateful to be let into the lives of these patients. I'm grateful to have been selected for this experience. Because I have had the opportunity to witness, that at La Ciudad de Esperanza, all roads really do lead back to faith. 

Oh, and it's only been three days. So there's that. 

Karly