Another blog entry? So soon!? Well, something very
important recently happened, and I thought it necessary for me to recount it.
It started at around 1:30 yesterday. This is the
time of the day when the volunteers all rest in preparation for the afternoon
courses, and to ride out the crippling heat of noontime. I was in the dorm with
some of the volunteers, simultaneously playing a Yugioh game on my friend
Jerry's laptop and watching some Avatar with everyone else. Hey, there's
practically nothing to do here, so you got to pass the time in any way
possible! Anyway, we were all relaxing, when one of the female volunteers,
named Holly, stops outside the door and says that one of the kids fell. Now, in
my experience, the direst of consequences of a little kid falling usually is
limited to them getting a few bloody knees and/or elbows, nothing serious.
Regardless, I grab my small stash of bandaids and follow Holly to the office,
where they were keeping the kid.
And man was I in for a hell of a surprise.
The poor kid was covered in blood, his entire face
drenched and red, his hair soggy and clumped together. He wasn't crying, undoubtedly
going through some pretty major shock, and his eyes looked unfocused and daze.
Some of the other volunteers were trying to stop the bleeding with a few
Q-tips, but it was clear that the task was making them feel nauseous.
Once again, I was surprised by how calmly I took
the scene in. There was the initial surprise of just how serious the injury
was, but beyond that I did not feel afraid, nor disgusted or sick. I'm not one
to faint over the sight of blood; as a chronic nose bleeder, I must regularly
face those tremendous surges of blood that erupts from gods know where up in my
nostril. However, I have never in my life seen another human being bleed a much
as that little child, and never seen someone with that serious of an injury.
Despite all that, I was wholly composed, and I quickly opened up my zip-lock
bag of medical supplies and got to work.
Now, I'm no doctor, and I've never taken any
first-aid courses in my life. I was completely unqualified for the task at
hand. But unfortunately, at that moment, practically all of the adults in the
school, from the headmaster to our coordinators, were away, leaving only us
volunteers to care for the injured kid. I knew that I had to do something at
that moment, that I had the power to help him. So with the help of Karl, who
had access to a slightly more advanced first aid kit than the handful of
bandages I had, I proceeded to use my own knowledge to treat the kid. Knowing
that any cut, regardless of how superficial, has the chance of becoming
infected, I first took an small antiseptic towel to clean the wound. I didn't
want to take any chances, so I used the strongest one I had. This was easier
said than done, as the mass of bloody hair made it quasi-impossible to locate
the source. So I decided to clean the entirety of the head, hoping that I would
clean the wound (or wounds, as I couldn't rule out the chance of more than one
impact site) in the process. I washed the kids head with the moist towel, and
in a matter of seconds, my hands were covered in blood. After doing that, and
finding the cut, I began to bandage him. At that moment I mentally berated
myself for not bringing a complete first aid kit, or at least a roll of gauze.
The only gauze we had were a handful of tiny squares, and I wanted to wrap the
entire top of his head, thinking that the added layer of protection and
pressure would keep his skull safe from any more trauma, and maybe ease up the
progression of a concussion. However, without the needed supplies, we instead
carefully applied a patchwork of bandages, large ones to cover up the wound,
smaller ones to keep them steady. After what seemed like an eternity, we
finished, and finally the bleeding stopped.
Throughout this entire ordeal, the kid was
completely silent, as some of the other volunteers talked to him softly to keep
him calm. To tell you the truth, I'm surprised he didn't even start crying or
screaming, especially when I began to clean his wound. The antiseptic pads I
used were especially strong, and most likely, for that kid, hurt like hell! Yet
he didn't utter a single sound throughout it all, and while the logical side of
me sees that as the byproduct of shock and a bunch of adrenaline, in my mind
that kid will forever be one of the most bad-ass people I've ever met.
After we finished stopping the bleeding as well as
we could, we needed to get the kid to the local clinic: what we did was very
limited and he needed to see an expert. Unfortunately, around these parts, no
ambulances exist to rush you to the hospital, and there was no one nearby who
could give us a lift. Only one choice remained: carry the kid the 400-500
meters all the way to the clinic. And so me, Karl, Kabeer and Freak all set off
on foot, with Kabeer carrying the kid, him being the strongest of the four. On
the way there, we passed by a local store, and I asked them if we could have
some iced water, a rarity around these parts. I expected that I would have to
purchase the water. The shop-owner gave it away for free, proving to me once
again that there are more good people in the world than bad, and that they are
willing to help those in need. Halfway to the clinic, we passed by chance the
home of the kid, and his mother rushed out to meet us, taking the kid and
carrying him the rest of the way, with us following. Once we got to the clinic,
most of the kids family had joined us, along with a few other concerned locals.
It was at that moment that the kid started to cry.
With the adrenaline and shock wearing off, undoubtedly
all of those emotions that had been locked up inside of him suddenly burst out
as he was held by his mother, surrounded by his family and friends. I could
understand why: the instant he fell, he must have felt a torrent of emotions
batter him: pain, surprise, maybe even anger, but above all else would be that
ancient, primal emotion: fear. Fear at this sudden powerlessness, fear about
what would happen to him, perhaps even fear of death. That fear locked him up,
and it was only after we helped him stand back up, helped stop the bleeding,
helped him get to the clinic, to his family and friends, that the fear released
its stranglehold on him. They were not tear of grief, but tears of relief. I
suddenly realize how important the actions of the volunteers and I were:
millions of years ago, had an animal been injured in such a way, be it adult or
child, most likely its only fate would be death. But now humans do the
opposite: we help our injured and sick, we give them new hope and new life, and
help them get back up. It is a part of human nature to aid those in need,
because we know that by helping them, we give them a chance to help us later in
the future, and to help other people. We have realized that, perhaps we may be
weak individually, but we can help each other grow stronger.
Or maybe I'm just being a bit overdramatic about
this and a bit emotional over everything that happened. Regardless, the local
doctor took care of the kid, and after assuring that everything was in order,
us volunteers walked back to the school. Later, we learned that the boy was
being taken to the local city of HuaiHua, because apparently he had a
concussion and needed access to a better hospital.
Fortunately, the following day was a much more
positive: we had an Earth Day celebration, and the schoolchildren all made
presentations for the day and were let out a bit earlier. We all finally
finished The Legend of Korra, and I built myself a Yugioh deck that is
practically unbeatable. Also, I'm growing a pretty sweet beard.
So I guess happy endings all around.
Thank you all for reading this rather lengthy blog
entry. The trip is around the halfway point now, with less than two weeks left,
but I hope even more exciting things happen.
Until next time,
Diego Molina, the guy who should totally get a
medal now... Anyone... No... Ok...
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