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