6:15am – The melodic sounds of voices drift on the cool morning breeze and mingle with white cotton plants and blue flowers in the courtyard of la Quinta de las Flores.

Singing opens with the verse:

‘I’m trading my sorrows

I’m trading my shame

I’m laying it down for the joy of the Lord’

And closes with:

‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty

Who was and is and is to come

With all creation I sing praise to the King of kings

You are my everything and I will adore You, I will adore You’

Rev. Silverio stands and reminds us of the story of Samuel, son of a barren mother, who was consecrated to God. The Lord, with a voice full of power, called Samuel into his service. Silverio focuses in on the power that can be contained in a voice. A voice doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful. Sometimes God speaks to us in a whirlwind, a fire, or an earthquake, but other times he speaks to us – like he did to Elijah – in a still small voice.

It’s triage day. Voices are everywhere. Voices call patients to be examined. Voices ask questions and look for answers. Voices quietly describe their illnesses, eyes down. Some voices are sad, some are worried; others are reassuring, hopeful, light, and relieved. The occasional baby uses their voice to declare their presence in the world with loud cries. The saddest voice from today is one that cannot be heard. A little girl named Dulce Adriana (Sweet Adriana) came down with a bad case of pneumonia several years ago and couldn’t breathe. The doctor at the time performed a tracheotomy, which allowed her to breathe and solved the immediate problem. For the last two years, this tube has kept air from passing over her vocal cords, halting her ability to speak. This little girl quite literally does not have a voice. The only sign that she is crying are the tears quietly sliding down her cheeks. Her operation is set for Tuesday.

The streets of Antigua are carpeted with colorful alfombras and even more colorful people. Today was la Procesión de la Caidad de Jesus de San Bartolomé Becerra. People from all over the Americas come to Antigua every year for this procession, which starts before the sun rises, ends at midnight, and meanders through the tightly packed streets even in the heat of the day – no siesta today. Men in the regalia of Roman centurions lead the festival and make way for the massive floats, weighing up to five thousand pounds, being carried on the backs and shoulders of paying volunteers. A breathtaking sight – and not just because of all the wafting clouds of incense.

After a busy day filled with seeing people as patients, we headed over to Casa de Fe and got to see patients as people. As per tradition, on the Sunday of surgery week we gather together with the children we will be seeing throughout the week and have a piñata party. We do this for a couple of reasons. One is that many of the patients we see during the week are children who are away from home and surrounded by uncertainty – especially the uncertainty of their health. We also want to be more than just eyes hovering over a white mask to these kids and families. By the time our patients have been rolled into the operating room, we have spent time examining and triaging these people’s bodies as patients but have also spent a significant amount of time smiling, laughing and singing the piñata song with them. We want to build a connection beyond the walls of a hospital and an operating room table. This year’s piñata came in the general shape and dress of Minnie Mouse™. After sizing up the goody-laden beast, which hung aloft and aloof, ravenous boy after ravenous girl wielded their spritely-mace with the agility and fervor of a trained knight. Blows reigned down without mercy till the mouse had given up her bounty. Mother and Child alike eagerly gathered up Minnie’s™ insides (stickers, toothpaste, toothbrushes, small toys, and a little candy) till the tiles once again lay bare.

Schedules have been set for the week. Supplies have been unpacked, counted, and organized. Dresses have been handed out to little girls – thanks to the work of the Northwest Assistant’s Ministries! All that remains to do is wait for the next sunrise.

-Joel Bacon 4/2/2017