DesanaGiving

An hour and a half up the road from the desert city of Tacna, Peru sits the small highland town of Tarata.  The change in scenery plays before you like a well crafted National Geographic documentary.  There is no need for a narrator as the land itself tells its’ story.

Once away from the city where life forms are few, the unmasked hills begin to climb and roll.  Small rocks and boulders have gathered at the bottom near the path left by some previous but long since forgotten rainfall.  The few trees or maybe just large shrubs sit idly by the rocks and watch with patience as this barren desert waits for water.  Water that will bring just enough life, just enough hope to endure the drought that is sure to follow.

As the road climbs like a goat jumping from one ledge to another, we begin to see the many hillsides that look like small faces that the Andes have sent forth to greet us.  Gray green eucalyptus shouldered up to dark green cedars are danced around by sparse yellows and reds of flowers grown wild. The brown gray copper stone walls that form terraces by the thousand stripe the mountains in potato leaf green and the gold of the corn from a previous season. To the east are the glacier white peaks of the Andes.  Like ancient elders from their thrones watching over their kingdom.  They choose on which mountains to shine the light of the day and the result is a spectacular work of art that no man could create.  I have been in awe since my arrival in Peru and that sensation has steadily grown.

When the limits of my mind are convinced that there is nothing more beautiful than what I have already seen, we arrive in the old small village of Tarata.  Just outside the town’s municipal building, in the plaza, is a canopy covering about 30 lawn chairs.  The chairs are mostly filled as the villagers have come in response to the offer of free dental care.

For two days a meeting room in the town hall has been converted into a dental clinic.  Inside that room is another long row of chairs filled with even more people patiently waiting their turn.  With a staff of volunteers from other cities in Peru, Chile, Bolivia, Columbia and Spain, the hard working, simple living people of Tarata are getting care they need that would not be available by any other means.

They enter with gratitude and respect.  They are welcomed with respect and concern.

The dentists work relentlessly. Whether it be gentle hands calming a scared child or the compassionate listening to the concerns of parents, they have for the moment set aside their practices and careers, their pursuit of degrees to be a part of a campaign that will have them working long hard hours. When this day is done they will pack their equipment and themselves into too few cars to be comfortable, then ride for hours to the next location where they will set up and be ready in the morning to do it all again.  This campaign will last several weeks.  The difference made in the lives of both the patients and dentists will become a part of who they are.

The beauty of strangers helping strangers only because they can is a sight that should be held in awe. This is what I have seen in Peru. My heart has been painted brighter by the hard work and willingness to give that I have been a witness to.

Odontologos Sin Fronteras (Dentist without Borders) and Desana are committed to bringing hope and changing lives by offering what we have to those who need it.

In a few days I will leave Peru for my home in Tennessee and there is much work to be done there.  The most cherished among the colorful crafted souvenirs I will bring home to share with friends and family will be the stories of people with a will to work hard and live simple, people with a desire to help others.  These things I believe are among the most beautiful in nature.