La Vida Continua

On the second day of clinic, Mary let me sort through a pile of stickers in Spanish to see if I liked any of them. After a few seconds of using my limited knowledge of the language, one jumped out to me immediately. It read “la vida continua,” or “life continues,” in colorful letters underneath a multicolored graphic of the “take it easy” symbol, the pinky and thumb pointed in the universal gesture. I decided to stick it onto my water bottle, and seeing it there, permanent until I remove it, made me reflect on my time at Ciudad de la Esperanza thus far. 

When I was at the glasses station assisting patients to fit the best fit for them, I thought about how long they must have gone without being able to see the world with clear vision. An older woman sat patiently waiting for Antonio and I to start her eye exam, and when we finally got to her, we were at a standstill. We couldn’t find glasses that would better her vision without harming it in the long term. While Antonio conversed with the woman, I restocked the table full of glasses in hopes to find a better pair. I put a pair of kid sized glasses on the table, not thinking much of it, but those in the end were the perfect fit for her. After some bending of the frames, she stood happily and held up the sign for “perfect” in my direction. Antonio and I watched her walk away, and we looked at each other saying that those glasses were meant to be for her.

I ended my day stationed with Dr. Deb, and even though it was a slow day, I felt more confident to pursue physical therapy for my career. We saw more patients later in the afternoon, but two of them stuck out to me the most. One came in regarding pain in her knees and ankles, products of long days of work to earn money and care for her husband. The other was similar, and carried years of stress in her back and shoulder blades from the hard work she completed at her job. Both had to quit their jobs because the pain was unbearable, but this stress was barely visible as they cracked jokes and listened attentively to Dr. Deb’s instructions. After their treatment was complete and I walked them towards the exit, they gave me warm hugs and we exchanged wide grins. 

The people of Cobán are a smiling and loving symbol of the phrase now on my water bottle, and I am incredibly grateful to share in their light. Despite any hardship, they continue their lives with the widest smiles. Nothing beat the crinkling of their cheeks, dimpled with smile lines, as they took my hands in theirs in gratitude. Truly though, I will forever be the grateful one for the lessons they continue to teach me, not through words, but with their actions and bright expressions. La vida continua.

All my love,

Samantha Manlapig