Wow...what a trip. It didn't hit me that I was leaving until I was hugging Janet and Annie goodbye. I think I scared them a little by my outburst of tears. Sorry ladies...it snuck up on me.
This experience has truly been amazing and eye-opening. Everyday I realized more and more how lucky I am, and I was constantly reminded that I have a wonderful support system, and family and friends who care a lot about me. Many people that I came in contact with in Honduras don't have any kind of support system, and often times families are missing fathers and suffer all kinds of abuse.
Amazingly enough, I did not fall asleep on my flight from Teguc to Houston. I was too busy crying...I felt bad for the flight attendants, because every time they came by to ask if I needed anything, there was a lot of snot and tears coming from my face - wasn't pretty. I just kept thinking about the people I was leaving behind. I thought about Karla and her life at 16, and about my life when I was 16. All I cared about was getting my drivers license, and who I was going to a high school dance with. Karla has a little boy and has suffered more abuse in her short life than anyone should ever have to bear. I thought about Karin and her life as a deaf 19-year-old woman that no one wanted. When I was 19, I was in college and my biggest worry was about my finals, or what party I could go to over the weekend. No one knows Karin's story yet because communication with her is difficult. I do know that she cleans her plate at every meal, which means she probably spent a great deal of her life hungry. I also know that she has many scars on her body, but I try not to think about the pain she suffered.
I thought about Karina, who is 24, is married, and has a baby. I'm only 25, and my biggest worry at 24 was whether or not I would get into graduate school, and quitting my job at an accounting firm. I complained so much and was so unhappy with the way my life was, but looking back at it now, how selfish was that? I had NOTHING to complain about. Karina is only a year younger than me and came very close to being a sex slave. Her family was so desperate for money that they were willing to send their daughter off to strangers hoping she would be able to bring home more income.
I thought about Melissa who is 21, and has a past that is so scary and horrible that she buries it away. I can remember having theme parties for my birthdays growing up, going on family vacations, and having "girls night out" with my Mom. Melissa's Mom died when she was very young, she spent part of her childhood caught in child trafficking and child pornography, and the other part in a children's home sleeping in a room with 12 girls and sharing a single bed with three other girls. I was fortunate to have parents who could afford to send me to college, help me with an apartment, and make sure I had everything I've ever needed. Melissa works to support her older sister, her three young nephews, and her younger sister. She dreams of going to college and furthering her education, and wants her younger sister to go to college. On the surface, Melissa seems like a normal 21-year-old. She walks among us everyday carrying the weight of her family on her shoulders. Somehow, she still feels compelled to visit her father in Santa Barbara, Honduras as well, which is four hours from Teguc, even though he sold her and her sisters to a random woman for a small sum of money. Do you think you could ever forgive your father for doing that to you?
I know certain things will never leave my memory. When I'm hungry, I'll remember Juliana's great-grandmother, who takes care of her young great-granddaughters, and how they might get a little bit of rice a day. I'll also remember the little girl's rotting baby teeth all because she doesn't get the nutrients she needs. When I get scared or nervous, I'll remember the 30-year-old woman who was held captive by her parents, and had five of her father's children. How she was brave enough to take a huge risk and escape from the hospital after her youngest son was born.
I know that everyone has a story, and some are much worse than others. What's crazy to think about though, is that everything that I heard and witnessed in Honduras is happening somewhere in the United States. We all get wrapped up in our own lives and in our own world - I'm definitely guilty of it. I hope that after you finish reading my blog, you will try to think of others and do what you can to help.
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