marry me, andres

Tonight we are lead through the cold hard forbidden streets of SLT to the house of a man named Andres. It's so lively out, people everywhere... and I wish I could have had the chance to explore it more after dark. I feel like there is something you completely miss about a place when you only see it in the daylight.

Andres is a sweet, small man. He explains to us about growing up on a coffee plantation, where he began working at 11 years old, under a strict class system, practically as a slave. Sin derecho, sin voz...no hay salida. He describes what it was like working within a system that discriminates so harshly against indigenous people, denying them of their rights - to land, to health, to education, to life. He speaks with so much passion for the environment and social justice - and with so much appreciation to be able to share his history and passion with us. Cuando estoy trabajando para la paz de mis amigos, tengo paz en mi corazon. He argues for a culture of service, to keep your eyes open to the conflict worldwide and to be willing to work against it for peace and social justice. El servicio nos llena el vacio de la violencia, de la guerra... He says that when you think of others, notice their needs and work for them, you liberate yourself. And I believe him.

I can't speak for everyone, but tonight is magical for me. I'm the first to call out someone for being corny, the first to be a skeptic, to make a joke out of every situation I find myself in and the first to admit that it's probably out of fear... but the passion for life, the genuine belief in his work, and the capacity for hope and goodness that I see in Andres is something you don't see every day. It's contagious. There is something so beautiful and simple in the way he phrases everything that is, unfortunately, lost in the translation to English. His hope is especially remarkable given his past, the culture of violence he grew up surrounded by, and the social injustices he likely still faces to this day. This enthusiasm and kindness bring out that something in me that chose to come on this trip and was so eager to begin working out in the community in the first place and este felicidad, no puede comprar.

...

It was our last day of clinic today. I've been horrible about recording where we went and what we did the past several days, as the work became our daily routine (again - how quickly we adapt). Hitting myself for it. Hard. BRB, hemorrhaging.