I may be thousands of miles from Honduras, yet a part of me is still there. I'll always remember my first visit to this country and forge ahead with a new found appreciation for how lucky I am.

Being back on campus is an adjustment, dealing with the day-to-day nuances of life at college: the work, meetings, and fast pace of life. Yet, I now understand the futility of these worries, for there are larger concerns, bigger challenges, and better rewards.

My Spring Break Alternative (SBA) trip left campus Friday morning, February 27 at 3:30 a.m. with 14 participants bound for Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos (N.P.H.), a ranch for orphaned children in the hills outside the capital city, Tegucigalpa, Honduras.

Descending out of the clouds, I had my first view of the Honduran countryside, rugged mountain terrain reached skyward, sometimes reaching exceedingly close to the plane as we spiraled down to land in Tegucigalpa, described as one of the "ten most dangerous runways in the world." As we bounced onto the runway and decelerated, I became slightly overwhelmed that Honduras would be my home away from home for the next week.

Entering a New World

Our trip through the city was my first of many eye-opening experiences. Weaving in and out of the clogged, smoggy and at times, seemingly impassible roads, I received my first tour of the Honduran capital, Tegucigalpa. Men stood outside local business, armed with shotguns dissuading potential crime, while feet away, children played soccer in the street.

The juxtaposition of promise and poverty and the contrast between danger and innocence, clashed before my eyes; an impression that only grew for me as we reached our host-site, Rancho Santa Fe.

Passing through the gate took us into a different world, a seemingly self-sustaining world of sorts. Lush gardens blossomed, a working farm provided thousands of eggs daily to feed the community. A small, squat building near the center of the ranch was the production hub where some 2,000 tortillas were produced. Here the physical poverty seen during our drive to N.P.H. seemed so far away.

And Then There Were the Children

And then there were the children: 500 children, who are without parents, victims of abuse, rape, poverty, and unimaginable despair; children of all ages, from toddlers to adults. Children who come from all backgrounds, but share a common trait: they are parentless, and are dependent on N.P.H.

It was through these children, who spoke a different language than I, but through whom I felt a connection, that I learned of a new experience: emotional poverty.

I saw it in their faces. Even if you couldn't understand what they were saying, you knew that each of these children had been through gross injustices.

You knew, you could feel, you could sense, the emotion; and you could truly feel the love and excitement they had for the personal attention we gave each of them.

Whether holding a hand, hoisting a child onto our shoulders, running around playing soccer or sharing a meal together, the compassion myself and my fellow participants were able to show, and the one-on-one attention we provided truly made a difference. Each afternoon, and again in the evening we spent time with the kids, enriching their day through any means possible.

Even more overwhelming was the time we spent visiting Casa Angeles, a home managed by N.P.H. for severely disabled children. From the moment we arrived to the moment we left, the intense experience at Casa Angeles reaffirmed for me the compassion and sympathy of each of my fellow participants.

Life Lessons

I learned a lot about myself on this trip.

I learned how simple life really can be: I can get by with one plate, one bowl and one spoon; I don’t need an iPod, or a cell phone for entertainment.

I realized how lucky I am to have the means to eat a healthy, nourishing meal, three times a day.

I learned the importance of family. I realized how dependent I am on other people, with whom I share emotions, laughter, sadness, and joy.

As our plane banked left over the city during our departure, and I looked out over the sprawling mass of humanity below me, I realized how lucky I was to have the opportunity to be on this trip, with my group of fellow participants. I realized I had been part of a lesson that I’ll always carry with me: the true meaning of love.

See additional photos from SBA Honduras on our Flickr page.

By: Cory True
SBA Honduras