"This photo shows a mother and three girls in Trujillo, Peru. Eyeglasses are being fit to the youngest child after the others had already been successfully helped.  The story began when these four entered our Hope Alliance eyeglass clinic and it was determined that all required eyeglasses with spherical corrections of -10 or greater. Using a familiar phrase,  they could "scarcely see their hand in front of their face". As they passed from station to station through the clinic, they had to be led by hand. When they left the clinic a half hour later, they could all see well, for the first time. Life for the entire family had completely changed.  The most touching part of the process for our volunteers was watching the mother. She was the first of the four to receive glasses. After showing her amazement and joy at seeing the new world of light around her, she vacillated in turn between tears and smiles as each of the her three children were also given sight.  The volunteers shared those tears and smiles." -Richard Criddle

Trip Report June 2008

Red means stop and green means go. Push the button and through you go – or maybe not. Once you gather your luggage at the Lima Airport and head through customs, you are confronted by a gate, a guard, and a large button. When you push the button, either a green or a red light comes on. Green means go on through; red means stop and have your suitcases inspected. I got Red.

When the bags were examined, the first question was: “What is this?” “It is a Retinomax used to measure vision.” “You can’t take that into our country without a permit.” “It is to be used for humanitarian work to help your people, and I am taking it home with me when I leave.” “But you don’t have a permit.”

“We tried to get a permit but no one responds. Who must we see to get a permit?” “See the official who gives permits.” “Who is that?” “I don’t know, but you must get a permit from him”. “We have taken this equipment into your country many times to help your people. Other Customs officials have let us into Peru, and you should help us do our work. Look, we have letters from the Catholic Church and from the City Manager in Trujillo saying that they need us to come help, and you should let us in to your country with our equipment.” “Yes, but you don’t have a permit. You can come into the country, but not with the equipment.” “I can’t help your people if I don’t have the equipment. You must allow us in with the equipment so we can help your poor people.”

“How much does the equipment cost?” “It  costs us nothing; it is old equipment and was given to us by donors.” “It has a cost and we will look up the value on the internet. Ahh, the value is $6,000 dollars. You must deposit ¼ of the value, $1,500 dollars, to take the equipment into the country. You can apply to get the money back when you leave.” “But I don’t have $1,500 dollars. You must let me sign a paper that I will take the equipment home with me when I leave.” “That is not possible; you do not have a permit.” And so forth, and so forth, and so, endlessly, forth - until they finally give up. They are not dealing with first time travelers and eventually they want to end their work shift.

Our team of eight got to the airport at about 11:00 PM; we got out of the airport at 2:00 AM, with the Retinomax and eyeglasses, and a stern warning lecture. This gave us time for the 30 minute ride to our hotel for a night’s rest before going back by 6:00 AM to catch a flight to Trujillo 500 miles north of Lima. A group of USU Business students were already in Trujillo running a two day eyeglass clinic as a humanitarian contribution to their semester abroad. We were to take over the next day and continue the clinic. They had 35 students. We had a total of 8 volunteers. They saw 600 people through their clinic in two days. We saw 600 people through our part of the clinic in the next two days, but we had to run 12 hour clinics from 8 AM to 8 PM to meet our 300 per day objective.

Trujillo is a moderately prosperous community, for Peru, but the shanty towns on the city’s fringe are populated by the extremely poor. The Trujillo Rotary Club had made prearrangements for our clinics in some of the poorest communities. This area has a poverty that is hard to imagine. People come into the city from the countryside and become squatters on any open piece of land. They construct houses with woven mats for walls and roof, supported by poles. No need for a solid roof because it doesn’t rain. Over time they make adobe mud bricks and construct more solid walls around the mat walls and add a door or a window or anything they can to make the place more like a real house. Eventually, enough settlers inhabit an area for the city to incorporate a new community. With this, a trucked in water supply is established, some electricity is installed, some authorities are put in place to govern, and some other needs are addressed.

We worked out of a school where the best thing about it was the soccer field, and that was a uneven, dusty, rut-filled lot with falling down goals posts.  The people were loving and grateful, but poverty showed in their eyes. Over 85% had eye growths called pterygium that interfered with their vision. At the end of our clinic, the locals asked us to stay for a 5 minute program so they could express their thanks and gratitude for our service. They had speeches, girls dancing, community dancing, some food for the 8 of us to eat while the community watched, and more speeches. The general thrust of the talks was that here were Americans who had come at their own expense to help make things better for the locals. Over and over they indicated that we were “real people”, meaning we were like them and related to them and wanted to help them, and were happy to be with them. Of course I could understand little of what they said, but could feel their warmth.

Our meal was very interesting. We were all given a bowl of soup that contained potatoes, corn, beans, and a few small pieces of tripe. We were honored more than delighted. I thought of the widow’s mite. We had been told not to go out on the streets of Trujillo at night. It was not safe. The locals guarded us closely out in the shanty town areas. They would not even allow us to walk outside the circle of light set up for our party because of concern for our safety. Also they would not let our bus travel at night without an escort. Four of the largest men of the village pulled the curtains over the bus windows to block the view of foreigners inside and rode on the bus with us back to the city. I would be delighted to go back and do another clinic with them and would feel just as safe as I did on this trip.

After Caral and Barranca, we started another eyeglass project in the slums north of Lima. This area was poor, but not nearly as poor as the outer Trujillo communities. It was clear that their level of wealth generally did not allow them any eye care. We were there to help the Sisters of Religiosas Trinitarias to examine the eyes of school children and adults in the community. We examined another 1,200 individuals, which brought our two week total (including USU) to about 2,400 people. This is the most we have ever done on a clinic trip, and we did most of it with only eight THA volunteers. We slept and ate at the convent and relied on nuns for transportation, translators, and crowd control. This is really a remarkable group of Sisters. One night at 10:00 PM after a clinic, the nuns took us into Lima to view the city at night and to visit a night club for dancing. Maybe that can make a new TV show: Dancing with the Nuns. We did not make it back to the convent until 1:00 AM 

We had our usual quota of remarkable events at these eyeglass clinics. A favorite was one young mother who was blind in one eye and could hardly see out of the other. We gave her eyeglasses and she can now see her children. Others who were nearly blind were made to see. Many with just weak vision went away seeing clearly. Helping the young with very poor vision is probably the most rewarding. I don’t get much opportunity to see these miracles as I am tied to the computer searching out matching eyeglasses under the pressure of dozens of others waiting in line for their turns. JoAn and helpers who fit eyeglasses to the people get to participate more directly in the miracles. Eva and Becky Mitchell were part of the fitting team. Ken Mitchell was pretty much stuck with me, pouring over the computers from morning to night. The two young men, Matthew Hilton and Joey Burt ran the Retinomax and filled in wherever they saw a need. They were an invaluable help to us, and the trip was a great experience for them and expanded their Spanish language skills.

Dick Criddle