It has been over a year now since Wings of Hope assigned me
to Puerto Cabezas, Nicaragua. So I figure reflecting on this milestone is a
good excuse to write.
I am not a very good
writer, nor does it come easily for me. The hardest part of writing for me, as
I am sure it is for most people, is finding the right story. It’s not that
nothing happens here that warrants a story—but after you’ve been someplace a
year, you become part of that place. Things that first seemed amazing, or
different, become a daily part of life.
All of the 90-plus emergency medical transports that I flew last
year directly transformed a life in an extraordinary way. They are all “story
worthy.”
I could write about the little girl with a compound arm
fracture. Not only did her arm heal completely, but she was the first patient
flown from Rosita—a town of 22,000 people that now has access to air emergency services.
I could write about the numerous pregnant
women in complicated delivery or the man with a brain aneurysm. There are also
the many babies with pneumonia, and the countless hours spent flying the
aircraft while anxiously looking back and hoping the baby is still breathing. Then
there is the pregnant girl who named her baby after me. I didn’t even fly her—just
visited her after the birth, because her family from a faraway community
couldn’t be there to support her.
These images flash through my mind like a slide show from last
year. But, for some reason, none seem like a fascinating story to me. I start
thinking of writing about things that occur in normal life over here, apart
from my work. I could write a story about learning to ride a motorcycle—while
dodging cows, horses, school kids, buses and possessed taxi drivers—or the innumerable
funny interactions with all of the local merchants and business owners. As
before, none of my ideas are shaping up into stories. I begin to wonder why. How come everything I can think of that has occurred in the past seems
just that— in the past, a distant memory? How come my mind is not recalling all
of the amazing things that have happened?
I start to focus on what is on my mind and what does have my
attention. It isn’t anything that has already occurred or has already been
accomplished. It is what can be accomplished in the future. It is Alamikamba, a
town that is an 8-10 hour car drive from Puerto Cabezas, but merely 45 minutes
by air. With only a little work on the runway, and permission from the
government, they, too, can have free emergency air transportation. Also
consuming my mind are Kukalaia, Lapan, Raiti and Prinzalpolka—all communities
that are in very similar situations to Alamikamba. All could be reached. There is
still so much more to do.
