Jose and Me
By Dan Zinn
Friends have told me they do not believe in love at first sight. In the past I argued only theoretically having never before experienced love at first sight myself. Jose Reyes changed that for me when he stole my heart the moment I saw him, albeit this is not a standard love at first sight story.
The mission team I went to Honduras with consisted of a medical group and a construction team. During our first full day in Honduras, the medical group split into two teams, one stayed in La Ceiba at the compound and my group drove into the mountains for a remote clinic. Sitting in the bed of our truck, I held on as Dr. Camp bounced and bobbled along the unpaved mountain roads. We ended up in a village known as La Donta III, which translates in English as Female Mountain Donkey III. Apparently, female versions of this animal are rare, so three different villages are named for the animal when they found her in the area. Pulling into La Donta, we interrupted the local boys’ soccer game, but they regrouped shortly after gawking at us.
After snapping a few photos of the church under construction, we settled into our medical proceedings. Most of our people set up a station to hand out vitamins and de-worming tonic. I went along with Dr. Camp to help him treat the most sick people in the village. Imagine cross-pollinating Grizzly Adams and Santa Clause and you end up pretty close to Dr. Camp. He wears his curly salt’n’pepper hair short on top and drawn in a longer ponytail in back. On most people, this would describe a raging mullet, but Dr. Camp’s hair looks more like a coonskin cap that you might find in high fashion with the Lewis and Clark team. He avoids the mullet look by balancing his long hair in back with a long beard in front. While he changed his clothing everyday, colorful suspenders and high-class leather bowling shoes are a constant.
Jose and his mother were two of the villagers we saw that day. Jose was 22 days old when I first met him. He weighed about six pounds and was about the size of an NFL regulation football. The hair on top of Jose’s head was not growing in dew to, what I learned was called, a Cradle Cap. Apparently, bacteria were preventing his hair from growing in properly. Jose’s cheeks were wrinkled like a raisin and he was lethargic. Dr. Camp gave Jose to me to cradle in my arms while he examined his mother. Jose’s mom was bad shape too. Both were severely malnourished and anemic. Dominga (Check moms name), Jose’s mom, had given birth to eight babies. Five of them had died because she could not nurse them. She gave Jose’s two living siblings away to keep them alive. Now she was afraid she would have to give Jose away too. Her diet consisted of flower mixed with water and a bit of sugar. She could not consistently make milk to nurse Jose, though she continued to breast feed him as often as possible.
In order to build up Jose, we needed to also fortify his mother. When we left the village we left behind a can of peanut butter and a package of tortillas we had bought at a gas station on the way. We also gave the mother some multivitamins. The preacher’s wife came with us to bring back the villages prescription drugs the next day from the compound in La Ceiba. We sent back fixings for PB&J sandwiches, vitamins for both Jose and his mother, formula with iron and a bottle, and whatever medications they needed and made plans to bring them to Le Ceiba for lab tests.
The rest of our trip was based from the clinic in Limon. We returned about a week later to La Ceiba where we flew out the next day. Dr. Camp and myself peeled off from the group when they went into town for a bit of souvenir shopping. Jose, his mother, and their lab results were waiting for us back at the compound. There were still problems with them, but the difference the week had made was profound. When I help Jose this time his cheeks were filled out and more rotund, he was more animated, his hair was growing back and his eyes were engaging his surroundings more. His mother was also healthier looking. While she was still anemic, her breasts were fuller and she was able to nurse Jose more regularly. Dr. Camp made me a deal. His end of the deal was that he made arrangements for medication, vitamins and formula to be delivered to Jose and his mother every three weeks. All I had to do was put together a Christmas package for them. Pretty good deal (though I am sure Dr. Camp would have held up his end of the bargain regardless of me.)
Jose’s story acts as bookends to my experience in Honduras. Had our team not been present, I believe Jose would have died, or at least not survived with his mother. It is not that I did something, or that Dr. Camp did something, but it was the entire group of people putting together this mission. Knowing that I played a small part of that process makes me feel pretty good and brings to life my faith that is so important to me. Jose was not the only experience I felt that with either. I witnessed actions that somehow saved peoples lives everyday I was in Honduras. This trip helps me to believe that we are all truly parts of God’s one body.