About ten minutes into our drive, we could already see the scenery changing. The quality and consistency of the houses was gradually worsening and it was obvious that we were stepping into a world that many of us only saw on television. We carefully crawled between a barbed wire fence and followed Professor Ives to the school that Quinnipiac had built during previous trips. After checking out the school, he led us to a few nearby houses to introduce us to some of the people of La Ceiba.
First, we met a loving mother who cannot afford her baby’s medical bills. You might be thinking that we have the same problem in the U.S.—but you are wrong. It would only take the U.S. dollar equivalent of $15 for her to get her child treated, but she cannot afford it. We quickly decided to pool together $5 each to help her get the medical attention her child needs. She was almost in shock as we presented the money to her, which ended up being significantly higher than the cost of the treatment.
We also met an older woman named Amelia who lives in, essentially, a cardboard box. In groups of two to three students and professors, we entered the home with Professor Ives to hear her stories. Our close-knit group of good-humored students quickly realized there was nothing amusing about the living situation we were observing, and almost every student emerged from Amelia’s home in tears. Yet somehow through all of our sadness, Amelia could not have been more excited to see us. She greeted Professor Ives with a bear hug, and continued to hug and kiss the rest of our group as if we had been long lost friends.
When it was my turn to enter her home, I took a deep breath as I walked past the exterior of her house, which was made of cardboard boxes and held together with nails and bottle caps. I felt so loved as she welcomed me into her home with her smile and begged me to take a picture with her by making hand gestures and saying “BOOM!” to imitate a camera flash. She pointed out things around her tiny, dark home and it became increasingly difficult to hold myself together.
The one constant thought in my mind was Christmas with my family. I could not stop thinking about how much money we spend to make each other happy when there are people like Amelia in the world who struggle to eat or find clean water everyday. Professor Ives informed me that he has visited her before with other students, and they brought her a flashlight to make it easier to get around her home. A neighbor found out about the gifts, and stole the flashlight from her.
Overwhelmed by the difficulty she must experience everyday in her life, I opened my wallet and pulled out the other 100 cordobas (about $5) I had on me and handed it to her. As I exited her home, two beautiful younger girls were giggling behind a broken fence and they smiled at me as I approached them. They had dirt all over their clothes and no toys to play with, but they were content with just smiling at me as I amused them with my terrible mix of English, Italian, and Spanish. The thought of Christmas came to my mind again, as I saw that these girls had no material wealth, yet the biggest, most genuine smiles I have ever seen. The scene of smiling children at my Christmas celebration is the result of receiving a high-definition video camera, a cell phone, or designer perfume.
As we walked further away from Amelia’s home, we saw her standing outside with her arms stretched out to the sky, thanking a higher power that we stopped by. It occurred to me that I was someone’s angel that day, and it was the best feeling I have ever felt in my life.
-Julia Notar-Francesco
Julia graduated in 2010 from Quinnipiac University with an undergraduate degree in Marketing. Subscribe to our feed for more posts from Julia!
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| These 3 little girls loved taking pictures with us and seeing themselves on our cameras. |
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| Amelia and I |
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| Amelia's home, made of cardboard and bottle caps |
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| Kids hanging out in the neighborhood |
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| Kids hanging out in the neighborhood |
