As long as I can remember, I’ve been obsessed with understanding the human mind, and it was this fascination that led me to Egypt. There’s a haunting beauty that echoes through the deepest parts of the mind, like a call from the forgotten past. These echoing depths are a realm of dreams, symbols, and dramatic representations. A realm where meaning is the fundamental reality, rather than matter. Civilizations have worked to represent and articulate these meanings across eras, gradually unifying them into complex models of reality. We often call this endeavor religion. My research attempts to explore the primordial dreamworld at the base of consciousness and to follow the development of higher consciousness from these ancient foundations.

There is a feeling of standing at a grand religious monument that goes beyond awe and cannot be ignored in any serious conversation on religion. My journey through the major religious sites of ancient Egypt provided a profound depth of experience that no amount of remote study could have generated. Egypt’s religious sites contain many of the world’s oldest surviving religious texts and artifacts. Many of these texts and artifacts, such as the pyramid writings, are built into the sites and lose much of their meaning when taken out of context. I had studied some Egyptian texts and artifacts before, but nothing could have prepared me for experiencing them firsthand. And as I continued exploring Egypt’s ancient past, I began to catch glimpses of patterns woven seamlessly through myths and monuments alike. Everything I saw was an embodiment of a deeper meaning, and each profound meaning was the lifeforce of something apparently mundane.

The ancient Egyptians did not worship objects or animals, but used them as symbols to represent dimensions of reality which were worthy of elevation and worship. Thoth—the ancient Egyptian god of wisdom, language, and magic—is primarily associated with the ibis, a wading bird with long legs and beaks. Ibises use their long beaks to probe for food in places they cannot see, such as murky waters and narrow crevices. Because of the ibis’s ability to know without seeing, the ancient Egyptians used the ibis to represent wisdom in the face of the unknown and declared the ibis a sacred animal. This representation illustrates the relationship between symbolic embodiments and religious meanings as humans have attempted to act in a chaotic world of unknown dangers and opportunities. As we probe into the darkness beyond civilization, we eventually find what we need and bring it into the known world.

The process of travelling through Egypt was its own adventure, as nothing works quite the way an American thinks it should. Egypt is still recovering from the turmoil of the 2011 revolution and many Egyptians find themselves socially and economically displaced. However, the confusion and desperation cannot overpower Egypt’s rich and vibrant culture, with its unique flavor of resilient hope. Though the country is chaotic, it is not particularly dangerous, at least not along the Nile. I thoroughly enjoyed my time there and would highly recommend it to confident travelers.

I’ve learned so much from this trip, and I hope to carry these experiences forward as I continue my research and my life. It’s as though the ancient gods still watch over the Egyptian sands, and I had the honor of walking amongst them, however briefly. While I did not have the fantastic epiphany which I might have hoped for on this trip, I have gained an inexplicable sense that the answers I’ve been hunting for are now just beyond my view. I am thankful to have had this opportunity and more determined than ever to finish the work I have started.

This was my first time to travel to a different country, to fly on a plane, or to go overseas, so before this trip, I had no clue what it would be like to experience different people and cultures. My entire life I have been stuck in this primarily ethnocentric American society, and I really had no clue how to break that mold. However, when I went to the Bahamas, I learned so much about the people and the culture there that there was no way I could return home with the same mindset that I had before.

One of my favorite experiences while in the Bahamas was visiting the Straw Market. It was so cool to watch people take advantage of their country’s biggest industry, tourism. But it was even cooler to actually understand why it was that they did what they did. They didn’t sell souvenirs in the straw market because they wanted to, nor because it was fun. They did it because that was the way that they best knew how  to make it in their society. And that was eye-opening for me. I had never seen people benefit from something the way that Bahamian people benefit from tourism. This caused me to develop a certain empathy and respect for their people because of their intelligent, opportunistic use of their country’s strongest industry.

On a larger scale, this experience taught me that people do not always have resources readily available like we do in the United States, but they do everything that they can with what they do have. Since the Bahamas is a collection of islands, most of the goods that they need and use have to be imported from somewhere else. However, at the same time, they have an abundance of natural resources that they take full advantage of. They grow, catch, eat, and sell plants and wildlife that live there, and they use the natural beauty around them to appeal to consumers. This taught me that they aren’t all that different from we Americans. We grow, catch, eat and sell our own natural resources just like they do. We sell the beauty of our land just like they do. We milk our resources for all that they are worth just like they do. Our societal beliefs, ideas, and culture may be different, but we all have that natural human intuition to use what’s around us to survive and thrive.

What taught me most about the Bahamas was the daily, informal interaction with the people of the island. Each and every person that I met was nice to me, and I could tell that they valued me as a human being. That made me wonder to myself, “Why is it that we dehumanize foreign people when they treat us with so much kindness?” We are no more human than they are. We are no more important than they are. We are no more loved than they are. And the fact that they could treat us with so much respect as we waltz in and enjoy their homeland tells me that we are absolutely failing as global citizens when we cannot do the same. They accept our differences and even use them as an opportunity for growth, and we should do the same.

Because of this trip, I now have a special respect, love, and passion for the people of the Bahamas, as they helped me become less culturally ignorant and more open-minded. Bahamian culture has instilled in me a desire to learn more about the world and the billions of people who inhabit it. Not only do I want to travel more, but now I want to learn more. Because of this trip, I will never be the same.

I have spent the last 18 months studying the growth of glyphosate-resistant Amaranthus palmeri (pigweed) in response to increased temperature and drought stress. I was eager to start my project when I received seeds from the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville. I bugged my thesis mentor until he met with me, and we set up the seeds for germination. I showed up every day to check on and water the seeds, and a month later only one out of forty seeds would germinate – then die. My project was full of setbacks, but in those moments of frustration, I learned the most.

Glyphosate is the active ingredient in Roundup®, a common herbicide. Since 1996, farmers have relied on glyphosate as a sole form of weed management because the introduction of genetically-modified, glyphosate-resistant crops made weed management convenient and lowered labor costs and demands. Glyphosate-resistance threatens current industrial agricultural systems because the weeds do not die upon glyphosate application, so the weeds stay in the fields, compete with crop species, and reduce crop yields. Farmers lose profit from reduced yields and the added labor cost of manual weed-pulling.

My project is important not only because glyphosate resistance is an intriguing case of evolution that has occurred in our lifetimes but also managing glyphosate-resistant weeds impacts agricultural sustainability and, therefore, the world at large. When I was down in the trenches, planting hundreds of tiny seeds with forceps, cutting thousands of leaf discs, watering and measuring hundreds of plants, and pipetting solution for hours straight, I did not feel that the work I was doing was important. I could really only feel proud of my work when I was looking at it in retrospect, talking about it with other professors or people, and presenting it in the last months of my undergraduate career.

My findings will not make a big impact on the scientific community, but completing this project helped me. The years I spent on this project taught me the true meaning of perseverance and dedication because I spent several hours in the lab each week, and I constantly had to overcome problems and redirect my project. My project gave me the opportunity to develop critical thinking and problem solving skills.  Most importantly, my project gave me direction and helped reaffirm my decision to attend graduate school and become a scientist and professor. It taught me that I was capable of completing scientific work independently, and when I talked about my project with others, I knew that I really loved what I was doing. Despite all of the setbacks I had, I would recommend an independent research experience to anyone. The frustration I felt was growing-pain, and in the end, I am better as a result of it.

In the summer of 2018, along with two other students, I was invited on a week-long civil rights era themed trip. I was filled with anticipation and excitement at the opportunity to experience my ancestors’ history firsthand. Throughout my high school career, I had buried myself in civil rights research and history in an earnest attempt to understand the plight of our nation.

The trip would consist of us visiting Atlanta, GA, Montgomery, AL, and Washington D.C. These cities were incredible, and driving through them, it was easy to see how the civil rights era had impacted them. Our first civil rights location in Atlanta was the Museum of Civil and Human Rights. It was an incredible sight. The beautiful interior had a masterful layout that took the viewer from an outsider perspective to a very intimate one. The museum also hosted an immersion audio experience in which you could see what it would have been/felt like to be an activist during a sit in. In the experience, you would sit on automated bar stools and place your hands flat on the counter in front of you. The headphones you were supposed to put on would play audio recorded specifically for your experience. The sound was such high quality that it felt as if I were sitting at a real lunch counter. It is recommended to keep your eyes closed during the experience to make it feel more personal. It was incredibly difficult not to cry during and after the experience. The audio experiment is such a unique way to deliver an impactful, historical lesson that I believe everyone should experience it at some point. It was a means of making our history feel real and too close for comfort.

Afterward, we journeyed to Montgomery, AL. We visited the Equal Justice Initiative’s memorial site and museum and were profoundly touched. As I was recording a documentary for my junior seminar course, I was not allowed to film in certain locations and had no desire to film in such sensitive areas. As we slowly made our way through the lynching memorial, it was haunting and truly disturbing to view the thousands of names written into stone of those who were murdered in the worst way possible. A haunting phrase that followed me through the site was that we would never know the thousands of names of those who were lost to racial hate crimes. These deaths were not only hundreds of years ago, but also frighteningly close to our modern day. Justice is a resource that is much too valuable and necessary to daily life and sadly it is only reserved for a few. Justice will never be given to those whose names are lost in time.

Montgomery was also amazing to me in that this museum and memorial were funded and supported by the Equal Justice Initiative. A legal group comprised of attorneys and other social servants who wish to serve those that our justice system has abandoned. While many, many men of color and not given a fair trial and unreasonably given the death penalty, these lawyers will help at no charge to the people in question or their families. This was amazing to me as it coincides exactly with the reason I want to go to law school for. As an attorney I hope to specialize in indigent criminal law and immigration law, helping families who may not be able to afford legal help at no cost. I am trying to intern at the Equal Justice Initiative next Summer, in the hopes to work under Bryan Stevenson, the attorney who founded the organization.

Our final destination was Washington D.C.. We visited the newest Smithsonian and were so lucky to have even been able to get in, the museum was booked out 6 months in advance! The experience was amazing and well worth the long wait in line. The Museum of African American History was truly revelatory in telling the history of blackness in America. If you tour the museum in chronological order, you will go from the sugar trade all the way to Outkast and Kendrick Lamar. What made the museum so amazing was that it not only celebrated our history, but our culture that was manifested from such history. It is a very surreal feeling to look in the display glass at artist’s clothes and records that you still listen to today.

Overall, the entire trip made me feel incredibly thankful to have been born black and Hispanic. While our history is almost unbearably painful and marred with the anguish of those we have lost on our way to get to where we are now, we must always realize that our work is never done. Instead of feeling a bit hopeless as I did before I went on this trip, I know feel hopeful for the social future of America. It is up to the youth to maintain the passion and vigor our social activist forefathers did, and to never take things for granted. When we become comfortable where we are, we start going backwards and that is something we can never allow. This trip put me back into contact with what we can do every day to ensure change. We must be rational, strategic, loyal, and energized in our fight for complete equality. Most importantly, we must never forget to love one another, and it is through love that the most hardened of hearts are touched.

I imagined my journey to New York to become a model for MONTHS. I was inspired by some bold friends who had been “discovered” in New York. I mainly chose to venture to New York because of their validating words claiming that I had the right “look” to be a model.

Prior to arrival, I dedicated much time to collecting addresses, finding contact information, sending emails, and filling out modeling applications. Anxiously, I was ready to be brave and see if this Arkansas girl had the potential to be noticed.

Needless to say, the premeditated scenarios I had created in my head were nothing like the reality of the city of Manhattan, where all of the modeling agencies are located. Manhattan overwhelmed me. I became nervous, questioning every aspect of myself, wondering if I was worthy of grabbing the attention of these well-known agencies. The fear was building up rapidly. I felt as if I was over my head trying to make my far-fetched dream come true.

My adventures began with attending my first open model call.  After searching Google maps for the location, I noticed a mysterious door that had no label. I opened the door to a single hallway with two elevators. Luckily, there was a little bulletin board that displayed the studios within the building and my modeling agency was on the 4th floor. Entering the agency, I was shocked. The room was the size of the Honors College Forum (a little bigger than a standard classroom), but split into three sections. A studio, a conference room, and a miscellaneous room made up this entire space. All the rooms were about the size of your average honors dorm room.

Next came the open call. First, models of different shapes, sizes, genders, and ages took turns being interviewed in front of everyone. Then, standard full length, waist up, and side profile photos were taken of each model. And lastly, models would then get silently graded on their modeling talents based on the portfolio photos that they would present to the casting director. The casting director was full of energy and seemed interested in what everyone had to share, but in the end, he was very stern in terms of how we would be contacted if we sparked an interest. He put emphasis on not calling the agency. No call back meant we hadn’t made it, with no explanation why. I went through this whole process twice more with other agencies. Sadly, I did not get any callbacks. I wish I had been able to attend more open calls, but many agencies do not host open calls because so many people want to become models in New York.

The rest of my days consisted of entering over 12 different modeling agencies to gain additional information about becoming a model. I had hoped by entering unannounced I’d grab somebody’s attention. However, I was never able to get past reception. Some of the receptionists were very kind and took pictures of me, asked me to write down my information on a post-it note, told me agents would call if interested, then would give me a list of other agencies to go see in the city. Other receptionists were very straight with me. Needless to say, I was discouraged.

The trip to New York taught me to persevere in my actions. I learned that having connections in New York is everything. I learned that rejection is part of life. Nothing in life happens by only trying once, but for some reason, I thought it would for me. I learned about the person I can be when outside of my comfort zone. I learned that the city is not for the weak. I learned that time and patience is everything. I was disappointed that things did not go my way while in the massive city, but, honestly, what was I expecting? I will continue to find inspiration within myself as far as where I wish to get with my modeling career. Until then I will be flashing my face in your local Arkansas magazines, commercials, and Instagram feed.

After hearing all my life that a liberal arts education is wholly un-lucrative, I felt pretty dubious about majoring in English in my freshman year. My father, an electrical engineer, had tried persuading me on countless occasions to pursue a STEM profession—which is only natural, I think, because as a parent, and especially as an immigrant who traversed miles and borders in search of greater opportunity, you want your child to prosper as much as, if not more, than you.

My attitude shifted after I got involved with student media and interned at the Oxford American, a national literary magazine based in Little Rock. The skills I was developing as an English major—the writing, the reading, the editing—were essential to a multitude of careers in journalism, publishing, communications, nonprofit work, and academia. Instead of feeling stranded when faced with my career prospects, I was overwhelmed with all the possibilities, and because of that, I felt compelled to explore as many of those possibilities as I can through internships and opportunities on campus.

In August 2017, I set my sights on an internship at the Feminist Press, an activist-minded indie publisher with a backlist of books that resonated strongly with me. My plan was laid early on: First, apply for an ELF (Experiential Learning Fund) grant to help fund the expense of living in New York City as an unpaid intern, and second, get the internship, somehow. The stars were aligned for me because everything fell into place, and thank goodness for that.

As much as I tried to suppress it, the idea of abandoning my family and friends to live in a place where I knew virtually no one scared me out of my mind. There were the more practical obstacles—like learning how to ride the subway—but also the more high-stakes trepidations: Would being so alone make me unbearably lonely? Looking back on my apprehensions, I can readily discern how dramatically the summer has developed my character, in the enthusiasm I feel when I meet new people, in the liberating effortlessness of being alone with myself, in the unearthing of a level of confidence I never knew I possessed.

Throughout the summer, I worked closely with the small FP staff, which gave me invaluable insight into the management of nonprofit work and independent publishing. Some of my responsibilities included proofreading forthcoming titles and grant applications, drafting metadata, live-Tweeting FP events, evaluating agented and unsolicited manuscript subscriptions, volunteering at the Harlem Book Fair, and mailing out orders and review copies. That’s not to mention some of the perks of interning, which included meeting FP authors, free tickets to an off-Broadway show, and, to my great pleasure, a lot of books.

I’m coming away from this experience with the knowledge that I could thrive in a publishing career. But I’m also keeping in mind a piece of advice from the executive director and publisher Jamia Wilson. Over tea in her office, she told me that if I’m feeling like I’m being pulled in multiple directions when it comes to a career path, to keep doing what I love and keep doing it well. It’s okay to not have honed in on a single vocation and to expand the experiences you undertake. In my free time, I’ve been giving my all to writing album reviews, and if next summer I have the opportunity to explore that further, I will gladly take it.

Reflecting on this past summer, a huge part of why it is so unforgettable is just the fact that I got to live in New York City. I met some of the most imaginative and driven individuals there, and it felt like I got to reinvent myself because I was in a setting where no one knew me. At the risk of adding to the endless romanticization of NYC, getting to live in Lower Manhattan made me feel as if anything were possible in the city: live music on street corners, rap cyphers in parks, break dancing on subway trains—being surrounded by that kind of purposeful, creative life constantly energized me. Before I left for NYC, I was so scared of leaving my friends and family. I’m stronger now, because I realized that in order to grow, I have to keep putting myself in situations that make me uncomfortable.

Walt Disney once said, “All our dreams can come true if we have the courage to pursue them.” Since my first visit to Walt Disney World at five years old, I have dreamt of being a Disney cast member. I discovered the Disney College Program on a social media site when I was in high school, and I knew I would have to apply when the time came. To be eligible, you only need to have one semester of college completed, but I waited until the fall of my sophomore year to apply for the first time. I made it all the way to the last round of interviews, when I informed the recruiter that I had recently made my college dance team and would not be able to attend in the spring. I applied a second time that spring for a fall program, and I was never asked for an initial interview. I even went to a character performer audition in Dallas and got cut during the first round. I learned a lot about dealing with rejection and the importance of perseverance. I guess the third time really is the charm because within a week of applying in the fall of my junior year, I was accepted into the program as a merchandise cast member for the spring semester!

I put my scholarships and basically my whole life on hold and packed my bags for a four month stay in Orlando, Florida. The first week there, everyone had to attend Traditions, which is the orientation for working at Disney. They taught us about the four keys by which Walt Disney wanted the company to operate: safety, courtesy, show, and efficiency. No matter your role at the park, those are the priorities, in that order. In my work location, we were constantly encouraged to practice these keys. The Traditions teachers showed us several videos of guests having their vacations greatly impacted by cast members, effectively brainwashing us to strive to be dedicated to creating happiness and making magic (and of course, money). We got to explore the tunnels under Magic Kingdom. This is where cast members take breaks and how they get around without entering a land that does not match the theming of their costumes. It is also the reason Magic Kingdom is not overflowing with trash. The coolest part of Traditions was getting our official cast member nametags from our new boss, Mickey Mouse.

The first couple of days of training for merchandise college program participants were at Disney University. We practiced using the registers, which was helpful for someone like me who had never worked in retail. We learned how to count change back to guests the “Disney way.” We also learned about “merchantainment,” which is essentially playing with the merchandise to entertain the guests and to sell more product. My home park was Hollywood Studios, so my first day of on location training was called “On with the Show.” I got paid to go on a tour of my favorite park and learn fun facts about its history and future. I could hardly believe it.

I worked in the Theater District, which includes Star Wars, Muppets, Indiana Jones, Frozen, and Christmas themed shops. I spent most of my time in Tatooine Traders, which is where hundreds of people dump out every few minutes from riding Star Tours. My favorite assignment was walking guests step-by-step through building custom lightsabers. No other merchandise location on property had anything that interactive, so it was perfect for me as a future elementary teacher. The best day in Tatooine was when I got to give Magical Moment certificates to two young sisters named Lucy and Grace. They came back to visit me during my last shift, and I cried tears of joy.

Even at the most magical place on earth, working an average of forty hours a week is exhausting and not always easy. To break up the monotony, I traded to work in other locations. I ended up working in every park at least once. Some nights I did not get off work until after two o’clock in the morning. Sometimes guests would yell at me for ruining their vacations because I asked to see their annual passes in order to give them a discount. One woman told my manager I needed to take more “earning my ears” classes and that I should just sell balloons on the street to children. My manager told me I was doing the right thing, and we smiled and told the guest to have a magical day, as is custom. The biggest, but most rewarding, challenge was learning to communicate with people despite language barriers. Guests and cast members come from all over the world, and it is so beautiful to see the diversity, especially in Epcot’s World Showcase, featuring food, entertainment, and cast members from eleven countries.

Overall, the Disney College Program was the greatest opportunity of my life thus far. I gained independence and valuable life skills. I had a blast riding rides, watching shows, meeting characters, and eating sweets. I already miss living minutes from Cinderella’s castle and saying, “May the force be with you,” but Mickey said he’ll see me real soon.

Upon deciding to take this trip, I had just undergone many big changes in my life. I had just completed my first year of nursing school and I was in love with the work I was doing, no matter how difficult it was. I love helping people and trying to understand their hurts, both physical and emotional. Going on this trip really helped my cultural awareness in a way that I know will help my nursing practice. My mind was opened to a different communication style, new lifestyle, and health management.

The people were quite different from those in America. There was a collective sense of being in Florence. The people were more openly kind and helpful to one another. I hope to bring this sense of community into my nursing practice with not only my patients, but also my co-workers.

Another huge part of the trip that affected me was the nature. We hiked in Cinque Terre, on the Mediterranean and the views were incredible. I pushed my body past limits I thought I had. We hiked for 7-8 hours each day through stunning vineyards and mountains overlooking the beautiful blue water. I couldn’t help but absorb the pure, raw beauty. It was so perfect and untouched by luxury. The buildings were colorful, simple and without too much flare. They were so old and the residents had been there for years and years with their families. It was a small village, everyone-is-friends mentality.

The next big hiking endeavor was in Bolzano, in the Alps. The mountains were stunning, like giants looming over the picture-perfect Alpine meadows. There were beautiful wildflowers of orange, purple, pink, blue, and yellow. They danced in the soft breeze and I couldn’t help but run through the field with the new best friends I made on the trip.

I highly suggest exposing oneself to the beauty of Italy. I love that we not only got to experience historic, artistic Florence, but we also got to explore many other Tuscan hill-towns via train. The small towns had stunning cathedrals and history and small shops, whose shopkeepers were captivating in their knowledge of Italy. The churches were moving both in their immense size and in the spiritual wholesomeness they exuded. Upon entering the churches, one could feel the history and the reason so many people clung to their faith a long time ago. The statues, murals, and altarpieces were so detailed and intricate.

This trip was full of history, art, architecture, cultural comparisons, and natural beauty. Nothing was overly modernized with technology the way things are in America. If you have the opportunity to expand your mind and cultural awareness, take it. Too many people never get the chance to see what is out there. More people need to in order to be more compassionate and open-minded in today’s ever-changing world.

The crazy thing about going on a service trip to another country is when you get home. Everything is the same – same people, same places, same smells. Yet, everything is different. I realized that what had changed was me. I learned about medicine while I was there, and we helped people as much as we could during the time we were there. However, the biggest help we gave to the local people wasn’t healthcare at all – it was love. Building relationships and sharing stories with the people, showing that we cared, and playing with the children with all the time we had seemed to mean the most to them. The people were so grateful for anything we had to offer, and they were so kind and content.

The culture was very different from anything here in the United States. The children were especially well behaved and grateful for receiving even one McDonalds toy, as it was the only toy they had.  We spent the first day in-country visiting local orphanages. We prepared for the King’s Children’s Home first, where we saw about sixty children in the afternoon. Our group gave out gift bags to each of the children in the home, which contained pencils and notebooks (they need school supplies badly), as well as sunglasses to protect from the rampant sun damage and a toy. We also visited Marla’s House of Hope, which was in a secret location because it housed girls who were victims of sex trafficking originally and many of their children as well. After each girl had a visit with one of the doctors, we gave out vitamins and flip flops, as many of them didn’t have shoes, which caused them to contract pinworms from walking around in the dirt.

It is difficult to explain the gratitude each of the children in these orphanages showed on their faces. They looked forward each year to the week when our group came, as it was their only “gift” of the year and their only medical visit. The next three days were spent working in the “clinic” we had set up, which consisted of trash bag room dividers and a suitcase pharmacy in the local Nazarene church. We got help from local people, who we paid $25/day to translate for the people who didn’t speak English (mostly elderly). When we arrived at the clinic the first day to set up, there was a line of people stretching down the street who were waiting to been seen by a doctor. Many of these people sent one person from each home to wait in line to be seen, depending on who might need medical attention the most. When the patient was “triaged,” we got information on how many people were living in their home so that we could better determine how many vitamins to provide for their family.

I was so surprised at the condition of the homes in the villages we visited (one room huts made of trash and sheet metal). Each of these contained around 15-20 people.

My primary job during the clinic was to work at the glasses station, which I found to be the most rewarding experience of the entire trip. Some of these people who came to our clinic were in their sixties and had never had glasses before. A local Conway ophthalmologist had donated five hundred pairs of glasses to our trip, although we didn’t know what prescriptions they were, as they were used. It was kind of difficult at first to help people find the glasses that might work best for them because of this, since we had to just keep trying them on until we found a pair they liked. However, we eventually found ways that worked best for us at our station and attempted to sort them by their strength.

The coolest part of the entire trip was seeing elderly patients who finally put on that “perfect” pair of glasses. Their faces lit up immediately, and that’s how we knew we had found the pair that fit them. It is amazing how these people were so resilient; they had gone their entire lives without being able to see and had successfully held jobs and raised families.

I was also lucky enough to get to observe our two physicians, Dr. Andrew Cole, OBGYN, and Dr. Tom Roberts, orthopedic surgeon, as they did some of their patient care. The medical problems we have here are very different from the medical problems there, because there is so little health care available to the people. Dr. Cole removed several warts and growths from people’s’ skin (we joked that he was the new dermatologist). Because of the high carb diet (beans, rice, tortillas), the people often had hypertension, diabetes, and obesity as diseases, but it wasn’t very well controlled, so we gave out as many glucometers as we could. I met four year old Aliyah during the last day of clinic, as I talked with her while her mom was seen by the doctor. She ended up stealing my pen and writing her name on my thigh so I “wouldn’t forget her,” but I knew that I never would. She had the most innocent and real smile I’d ever seen.

In the clinic, we saw 492 families, treated 1387 people, filled 2603 prescriptions, and gave out 500 glasses. The last day, we spent visiting the school another group had built in a previous year. I was walking around the school when Aliyah came up and jumped on me. She showed me her classroom and we spent a little while building blocks before we had to leave. She hugged me and said that she would miss me and hoped that I would come back next year. I will.