Christa Decker 10-8-14
Descriptive Essay Simonds p.7
This past August I got the opportunity to travel to Mexico with a group of over 100 doctors and volunteers from all over the globe. It was the most influential experience I had ever been a part of.
As I sat on the hot, run down bus surrounded by my group members, I watched as the images of houses and barbed wire fences went whizzing by. Tiny gated in communities made up of identical stucco buildings passed by one after the other. The communities became less frequent and were replaced with decaying buildings and garbage filled streets. As we neared the center of Ecatepec, more and more people began to appear. I wondered where they were all going, and why all in the same direction. It all became clear as we approached the hospital. As I stepped off the bus, posters in one arm and my backpack on the other, I tried to take it all in.
Mothers, children, and husbands lined the fences surrounding us as we departed the bus. It seemed as if they had been there all night. Some sat on the hard cobblestone ground bundled in blankets while others prepared the morning's meal. Their eyes showed a mixture of hope and despair, watching us as we made our way to the hospital entrance. Behind me, I heard the muffled chatter of those waiting anxiously. As guards stood with machine guns resting against their chests, groups of children watched in suspense. I took a deep breath and focused on each small footstep as I passed through the gate.
I had finally made it. I let out a sigh of relief and readied myself to enter the hospital. As I stepped through the doors, I was immediately hit with warm, humid...