~Final~

I see little black hands

Reaching through the window of our mud-splattered jeep,

Hands whose owners sleep on the street, who hide from armed men,

Every night,

Screaming,

Begging,

These are sights that show poverty.

I see old women

Hunched backed, walking painfully down the dirt road,

Young girls,

Torn,

Tattered,

Wishing for a better life, an education.

These are sights that show despair.

I see new wells installed,

New schools built,

New businesses formed,

Healthy people,

Happy people,

Who are no longer beasts of burden.

These are sights that show hope.

I hear hopeless crying

Rapid bursts of gunfire,

Sickening screams,

Crackling fires,

Burning houses,

I hear helpless victims.

These are sounds that show violence.

I hear crazed commotion

People running through the streets,

Crying children abandoned or lost in the crowd,

Drunken shouts,

Pounding footsteps,

I hear clanking body armor.

These are sounds that show distress.

I hear water flowing,

Pencils writing,

Children laughing,

Cows mooing,

Chickens clucking,

I hear people stopping to talk on the street.

These are sounds that show happiness.

I smell burning wood

Bodies rotting,

Garbage and sewage flowing down the street,

Rank animals wallowing in their own filth to stay cool,

Dirty water,

I smell nothing but the blood from my own dry cracked skin.

These are smells that show loss.

I smell gasoline and smoke

Garbage in rivers that once flowed clean,

Sweat from hundreds of workers in fields,

Burning garbage,

Oil and chemicals on every street corner,

I smell forests being burned to the ground.

These are smells that show pollution.

I smell clean animals

Healthy people,

Sweet bread from the new bakery,

Fresh air,

Clean water,

I smell entire forests of living trees.

These are smells that show healing.

I taste blood in my mouth

Blood from people beating other people,

Dirt blowing into my face

Sulfur,

Manure,

Every sip of water is like poisonous mud.

These are tastes that show sickness.

I taste my own tears as they trickle down my face

Tears from too much loss and sadness,

Mold in my food,

It is better than starving,

Dirty water,

I can’t stand it.

These are tastes that show hoplessness.

I taste food that is clean and rich with nutrients

Fresh, clean water from a new well,

Flowing down my throat,

Quenching my thirst,

Fruit and bread,

I taste food that I bought with my own money.

These are tastes that show satisfaction.

I feel a sharp pain in my head

A knife pressed against my throat,

A bullet wound in my shoulder,

A bullet shot by my friend who was turned against me,

A bomb shaking the ground,

Then I feel nothing.

These are feelings that show sadism.

I feel rocks piercing my feet

As I walk across an endless desert,

Burning sand leaving blisters all over my skin,

Thorny bushes on the ground,

Shoulders aching from carrying a water filled jury can,

But I have to keep going.

These are the feelings that show pain.

I feel the cool wind blowing across my face

As I ride my new bike down a hill,

I grasp my new tools in my hands,

Water splashing on me,

Money in my hand,

That was loaned to me.

These are feelings that show refreshment.

These are senses that could make you cry.

These are senses that could make you scream with joy.

These are senses that show that there is hope among poverty and despair.

These are senses that show there is healing among loss and pollution.

These are senses that show satisfaction among sickness and hopelessness.

These are senses that show refreshment among pain and sadism.

These are senses that change lives.

I have traveled the world with this class.

Everywhere I go,

I meet someone new,

Someone different,

Someone with a story to tell.

Someone who knows something that I don’t.

I met a disabled Ghanaian

Who rode his bike across his country with one leg,

Followed by hundreds of people,

Who almost single handedly changed,

The horrible way that disabled people were treated in Ghana,

In a peaceful, inspiring way.

Thank you Emmanuel.

I met two men from Rwanda

They had been scarred for life,

Both mentally and physically,

They taught me many things,

Do not hate anyone, even your worst enemies,

Love everyone and put the past behind you.

Thank you Fredrick and Zachary.

I met a farmer in El Salvador

Who was so poor he lived in a house made of sheet metal,

He needed bulls to plow his fields,

So I helped him by loaning him $25,

H bought his bulls and plowed his fields,

Now he will be able to provide shelter and education for his family.

Thank you Selvin.

I met a boy from Sudan

Who escaped soldiers with guns and planes with bombs,

And walked hundreds of miles across deserts,

Protecting three hundred boys younger than him,

No food or water,

He taught me to never give up.

Thank you John Bul Dau.

I met a fat white guy who played football

While the other players fought because of their different races,

He just had a good time and was friends with everyone,

He was just too funny and goofy to be racist,

He wasn’t the best player on the team, but he was one of the most inspiring.

And he showed me you can’t judge someone by the way they look.

Thank you Louie.

I met a boy who took a school project to another level

Who tried to make the world a better place,

He helped other people,

Even though he was the one who needed help,

He finally died trying to help others,

And spread a message to give help to others.

Thank you Trevor.

These are people who see a problem and fix it.

These are people who go and help others who are in worse shape than them.

These are people who don’t live in big houses or buy fancy things.

These are people who you would be afraid of if you saw them on your street.

These are people who would help you if you were in their place.

These are people who are doers.

 These are people who change lives.