Despite these many years, one thing about our work in Perú that always surprises me is the constant opportunity for learning. In 2011, on an outreach trip to provide medical care to an underserved area in Lima, I had one of those “life moments” that will always stay with me. The story goes like this: On Saturday morning, the day before we completed the outreach campaign, I was up by 6 a.m. to pack the remainder of the team’s medications and prepare for the respective distribution sites.
After a quick breakfast of coffee and pineapple, I had a patient to see for a follow-up visit. The patient, a 4-year-old boy, was coming back to get a few stitches removed from his forehead. On Monday, his mother brought this little boy into the clinic after falling on a rock. It is important to remember that we were conducting our clinic operation in one of the most impoverished neighborhoods of Lima. This was such a poor area that we were in tents to see patients. Most of our concerns were not directed toward this subtle inconvenience but rather toward the fact that the Peruvian healthcare system was on strike.
“On strike!” What does that mean? In a world of limited resources and even more limited opportunities, the best way to negotiate change is to stop working. As such, all doctors, nurses, technicians, and dentists within the Ministry of Health stopped working. This included emergency services as well. It’s not hard to realize this left us in a rather tricky and challenging situation. Alas, the key to success in life is flexibility; we trudged forward despite our “inconvenient” limitations. It’s a good thing we had an emergency room physician on the trip.
Saturday’s “visit” worried me. I was concerned about how our little friend would respond to my taking the sutures out of his noggin. On Monday, he was hysterical, and we struggled to comfort him while we placed sutures. We then sent him to the local health post for a radiograph of his skull (to rule out a fracture) and another clinic for a tetanus shot. This sounds like a simple series of follow-ups, but it became more than a dozen phone calls between the project director and the hospital. It also involved an equally impressive number of visits with the mother and her son and a frustrating experience interacting with a very fragile healthcare system.
Finally, on Saturday morning, he came to see me with a broad smile and a swollen forehead. I neglected to mention one crucial detail in this story—the little boy did not look like a stereotypical little boy. He had long hair and a cherubic face, and his shy demeanor gave him a tender and gentle appearance. I asked the project director about the significance of long hair on male children, and she told me of an ancient Andean tradition.
As the story goes, the tradition is to wait for the “right” time to cut a child’s hair. The project director said that the “right” time was determined by the people in a young boy’s life, who could help and instruct him in the world’s ways and act as role models.
This young boy (we will call him Roberto) did not yet have the “right” people. His mother was widowed. She was without a job and had sole responsibility to care for two other children (including a young baby). She was one of the many people we encountered who lived in an area without water, waste disposal, or electricity. She told us that she had been waiting for the boy to get another father before she cut his hair. She told us she was waiting for Roberto to meet a man who could mentor and guide him in his life.
As luck would have it, removing the sutures was easy. Roberto squirmed and cried, but he was okay. After we gave his mother antibiotic cream and a few pieces of candy for Roberto, the mother asked if I would cut his hair.
I was incredibly flattered. I hesitated initially, recognizing that I was venturing toward a solemn responsibility – the man cutting the child’s hair is also the godfather. In the end, my hesitation was only momentary. I cut that boy’s hair with all the love and compassion (albeit very little skill) I could muster.
This act produced a lofty natural high for me. I was walking in the clouds. It is a humbling experience to be part of the lives of the people we serve. It is even humbling to think I had an impression on their lives—even if that impact only assures they have the best haircuts in Latin America.
You cut hair, too – right? wayne centrone
/0 Comments/in Blog /by Wayne CentroneDespite these many years, one thing about our work in Perú that always surprises me is the constant opportunity for learning. In 2011, on an outreach trip to provide medical care to an underserved area in Lima, I had one of those “life moments” that will always stay with me. The story goes like this: On Saturday morning, the day before we completed the outreach campaign, I was up by 6 a.m. to pack the remainder of the team’s medications and prepare for the respective distribution sites.
After a quick breakfast of coffee and pineapple, I had a patient to see for a follow-up visit. The patient, a 4-year-old boy, was coming back to get a few stitches removed from his forehead. On Monday, his mother brought this little boy into the clinic after falling on a rock. It is important to remember that we were conducting our clinic operation in one of the most impoverished neighborhoods of Lima. This was such a poor area that we were in tents to see patients. Most of our concerns were not directed toward this subtle inconvenience but rather toward the fact that the Peruvian healthcare system was on strike.
“On strike!” What does that mean? In a world of limited resources and even more limited opportunities, the best way to negotiate change is to stop working. As such, all doctors, nurses, technicians, and dentists within the Ministry of Health stopped working. This included emergency services as well. It’s not hard to realize this left us in a rather tricky and challenging situation. Alas, the key to success in life is flexibility; we trudged forward despite our “inconvenient” limitations. It’s a good thing we had an emergency room physician on the trip.
Saturday’s “visit” worried me. I was concerned about how our little friend would respond to my taking the sutures out of his noggin. On Monday, he was hysterical, and we struggled to comfort him while we placed sutures. We then sent him to the local health post for a radiograph of his skull (to rule out a fracture) and another clinic for a tetanus shot. This sounds like a simple series of follow-ups, but it became more than a dozen phone calls between the project director and the hospital. It also involved an equally impressive number of visits with the mother and her son and a frustrating experience interacting with a very fragile healthcare system.
Finally, on Saturday morning, he came to see me with a broad smile and a swollen forehead. I neglected to mention one crucial detail in this story—the little boy did not look like a stereotypical little boy. He had long hair and a cherubic face, and his shy demeanor gave him a tender and gentle appearance. I asked the project director about the significance of long hair on male children, and she told me of an ancient Andean tradition.
As the story goes, the tradition is to wait for the “right” time to cut a child’s hair. The project director said that the “right” time was determined by the people in a young boy’s life, who could help and instruct him in the world’s ways and act as role models.
This young boy (we will call him Roberto) did not yet have the “right” people. His mother was widowed. She was without a job and had sole responsibility to care for two other children (including a young baby). She was one of the many people we encountered who lived in an area without water, waste disposal, or electricity. She told us that she had been waiting for the boy to get another father before she cut his hair. She told us she was waiting for Roberto to meet a man who could mentor and guide him in his life.
As luck would have it, removing the sutures was easy. Roberto squirmed and cried, but he was okay. After we gave his mother antibiotic cream and a few pieces of candy for Roberto, the mother asked if I would cut his hair.
I was incredibly flattered. I hesitated initially, recognizing that I was venturing toward a solemn responsibility – the man cutting the child’s hair is also the godfather. In the end, my hesitation was only momentary. I cut that boy’s hair with all the love and compassion (albeit very little skill) I could muster.
This act produced a lofty natural high for me. I was walking in the clouds. It is a humbling experience to be part of the lives of the people we serve. It is even humbling to think I had an impression on their lives—even if that impact only assures they have the best haircuts in Latin America.
A Bridge to Change Colorado: Simply Spectacular!
/0 Comments/in Blog /by Wayne CentroneA Bridge to Change – Colorado
/0 Comments/in Blog /by Wayne CentroneWe have our first fundraiser event of the year on Tuesday, March 26, in Eagle, Colorado.
This is our year of A Bridge to Change events all over the U.S. We start in Colorado, head to Connecticut, and then to Wisconsin before ending the tour in Portland. We are excited to get out and meet new HBI supporters. We also look forward to sharing our fantastic work and how you can get involved.
Interested in joining us at A Bridge to Change event – check out the website for more details or contact us at info@hbint.org
If you can’t attend one of our events, you can still help. Donate today.
We’ll share photos and a recap of the Colorado event next week.
Living in Gratitude – wayne centrone
/0 Comments/in Blog /by Wayne CentroneLiving my life from a space and place of gratitude is incredibly powerful. It can be challenging to stay in a gratitude mindset. However, gratitude is abundant when I stripe away from preconceptions and live squarely in the moment. Here’s a little story that helps remind me how vital mindfulness and gratitude are in my life.
Despite his modest material possessions, Wilfredo woke up with a radiant smile every morning. His heart, once yearning for more, was now brimming with gratitude. He found joy in the simple things—the sun’s warmth on his face, warm bread for breakfast, and the birds’ melodious chirping outside in the fields.
Wilfredo’s infectious, positive outlook on life brightened his days and illuminated those around him. Even at his very tender age, his friends were in awe of his ability to find happiness in the tiniest things. They often sought him out to find the secret to perpetual happiness.
Wilfredo believed that being grateful was an ongoing, conscious decision. He knew life wasn’t always easy; he had experienced many challenges and hardships in his 14 years. However, he knew there would always be challenges and obstacles to overcome, and he knew there was always something to be thankful for.
On one fateful day, when Wilfredo was fifteen years old, his life changed drastically. Fear, frustration, and disappointment threatened to engulf him. Overnight, he became the caretaker of his three younger brothers. He found himself overcome with uncertainty about how to move forward. Instead of succumbing to the situation and circumstances, he consciously shifted his focus. He was thankful for his ability to ask for help and for the willingness of people to come to his aid. He was thankful to be with his brothers and to provide them with love and support.
As Wilfredo continued to live a life of gratitude, he noticed that his life began to change in unique ways. He felt more content and at peace with himself and began attracting more positive people and experiences into his life. Despite the challenges that sometimes overwhelmed him, he had hope.
Wilfredo realized that living a life of gratitude wasn’t just about being thankful for what he had and the abundance of living in the present moment. It was also about being open to new opportunities and experiences – and cherishing whatever and wherever life takes us. He was excited to see what the future held, and he knew that as long as he lived his life with gratitude, anything was possible.
Today, Wilfredo (not his real name) is one of the caretakers in our Casa Girasoles program. His smile is contagious. His warmth is inviting. He is a source of great pride for the other boys. He is a force of great inspiration for me.
I am grateful for the support you provide us every day. I am incredibly thankful for our organization’s work and the fantastic lives of the boys we are so fortunate to be on this journey with.
Lincoln’s Dilema – wayne centrone
/0 Comments/in Blog /by Wayne CentroneI greatly admire President Abraham Lincoln. He was a man of sincere and unwavering conviction. He was also a person who had to take a stand in his life.
Lincoln is one of the most outstanding leaders the U.S. has ever had the privilege of producing. Many historians describe him as the “best” U.S. president in history. He came of age in an era of slavery and profound disconnection. He was a statesman who sought to unite a divided nation.
Challenged by the pressing need to end slavery and his political desire to unite his political coalitions, Lincoln faced an ethical dilemma. He knew ending slavery was the right thing to do, and he had a nation so divided that succession was alarmingly close. He had a choice: take an iterative approach to dismantling the institution of slavery and pacify the political divisions – or bend the moral arc to justice and risk further fracturing the United States.
History tells the story of Lincoln’s decision. A decision righted many wrongs and ultimately led to the end of his life. Most decisions are not as life or death as Lincholn’s. However, every day, we make decisions. Some are conscious and deliberate; others occur on autopilot.
In our work with children separated from their homes, children whose lives are upended by poverty, violence, and trauma – every day is filled with important decisions. Our team faces decisions about staffing the homes, providing the necessary resources, and ensuring the safety of the facilities. However, more than any decision regarding how we do our work, we are solidly grounded in why we do it.
Every decision we make is thoroughly grounded in our commitment to a better life for every child. There is no moral ambiguity. We are all with our efforts. We are unwavering in our actions.
The decisions we make have significant consequences. We can’t sit back and hope the change we wish to see in the lives of the children we care for will happen. We need to push forward to ensure they will happen. We don’t want iterative change.
We are dedicated to creating a world where every child, youth, and young adult can access a life built on health, hope, home, and purpose. There is no dilemma for us. It’s just full speed ahead.
Connecting with Marco – wayne centrone
/0 Comments/in Blog /by Wayne CentroneI carry a picture in my wallet. I have for over 20 years. The photo reminds me that our work is all about connection.
One of the boys in the photo holds a special place in my heart. On one of our Team Peru trips, we had a clinic at the Casa Girasoles for the boys and staff. The home had over 40 children at the time, and the staff visits included all their family members.
At the end of a long day, a staff person approached me and asked if I would see one of the younger boys. She explained to me that the boy was timid and self-conscious. She told me he had been “suffering” from a rash. She described the intense irritation and itch the boy had been dealing with for weeks.
The boy, I will call him Marco, was small in stature and much younger looking than his eight years of age. His shyness was almost overwhelming as he sat in the chair, unable to make eye contact and mumbling responses to my questions. The caregiver accompanying him provided most of the child’s history, and the boy confirmed with subtle gestures.
His skin was indurated and chaffed from the weeks of intense scratching. He had a secondary skin infection that developed from the extensive irritation. He squirmed uncomfortably in the chair and barely said a word. The pained look on his face gave away the silence.
Having spent much of my clinical training and career working with people living in the experience of homelessness, I had little trouble identifying the cause of his symptoms. Working with the caregiver, we outlined the steps to disinfect his clothing and bedding. We provided topical treatment to eradicate the scabies mite and started him on an antibiotic to treat the skin infection.
His treatment plan was comprehensive and also included topical steroid cream to decrease the irritation and inflammation and oral antihistamines to help with the pruritis. I was worried – Marco and his caregiver had a told of steps to juggle before he would get the relief he deserved.
A few days later, having been consumed with our school outreach campaign (the subject of another day), I went to check on Marco. I knew the treatment often made a patient more irritated and uncomfortable before they felt better. I first reached his caregiver. I expressed my concerns and sheepishly asked for an update. She excitedly told me that Marco was doing great. She said it was the first time she had seen him smile in weeks.
The caregiver told me Marco was eager to see “his” doctor. She informed me how excited he was to tell me something.
To my surprise, the Marco I met that evening was not the same shy boy I had seen a few days before. He had a smile from ear to ear. His eye contact was startling and comforting. He hugged me and told me thank you. Uncertain of what thanks I deserved, I asked him how he was doing. He informed me that he had been able to sleep for the first time in quite a while. He expressed gratitude for the relief he was experiencing from the intense itching and irritation. He was a completely different boy.
Whatever concern may have lingered about how Marco was doing was quickly assuaged. He hugged me as we said goodbye and whispered, “Mi querido y amable doctor. Gracias por permitirme faltar a la escuela [estos últimos días]. Me he divertido mucho (My dear kind doctor, thank you for allowing me to miss school these past few days. I have had a lot of fun).”
I often think about Marco, wondering where and how he is doing. I wonder if he knows how much he impacted me.
Good work, great people – wayne centrone
/0 Comments/in Blog /by Wayne CentroneToday was packed and very productive. We met as a team to discuss, debrief, and plan for the newborn resuscitation training program (NRTP). For those who aren’t aware, HBI has partnered with the Peruvian College of Nurses and the Peruvian College of Midwives to develop and implement a train-the-trainer program around NRTP. Our moonshot goal for the program is that every birth in the country of Perú will be attended by at least one professional training in newborn resuscitation. Yup, there’s nothing lofty about that. 😉
As I bet you can imagine, setting such a big goal means we are constantly imagining and reimaging the program. This weekend, we are meeting as a team to take stock of where we have been, consider our challenges and successes, and build a plan for the future. Today, we focused on understanding where we are vulnerable or at risk of break points in our program work. We used the discussion to position our team to address the more forward-moving questions of how we will fortify our efforts and simultaneously build preventive measures into the work.
The day was stimulating, energizing, and exhausting. It reminded me why this work is so important—the people. We have a fantastic team – committed, generous, humble, and hard-working. I believe that doing good work in the world is everyone’s responsibility. I know that doing good work with great people is one of the most significant accomplishments in life.
Today was a gift. A gift I know we will use to build a model program.
On that thought, I will leave you with the words of one of my favorite poets and activists, Marge Piercy.
To be of use
Greetings from Lima – wayne centrone
/0 Comments/in Blog /by Wayne CentroneWelcome to the vibrant city of Lima, where the heat and humidity starkly contrast our northern hemisphere winter. It’s like stepping from winter into the late summer of Latin America- quite a jolt!
I arrived early this morning. We have a couple of days for really intense meetings around the Newborn Resuscitation program. Dr. Bob, Medical Director, and Dra. Mary, one of our key leads on the NRTP work, along with Dr. Roberto, Karen, and myself will be meeting over the next two days to strategize for the future of this incredibly valuable program.
After two full days of meetings, I am into another full-day retreat with our Girasoles administration team. From that point forward, it’s a series of driving trips, flights, and connections. I will be posting about the focus of this trip and curating videos and pictures. I will be posting a couple of stories about our work as well. Consider the next two weeks of stories from HBI on the road. I hope you enjoy it.
Thanks for all your incredible and ongoing support.
Our Commitment – wayne centrone
/0 Comments/in Blog /by Wayne CentroneWorking with children and families living in the experience of multidimensional poverty is a unique and challenging journey that often goes beyond professional boundaries. It is a journey of deep personal exploration and recognition of our vulnerabilities. We have come to understand that a deep emotional connection with the people and communities we serve means facing undeniable struggles and challenges – and embracing a profound joy from the transformative power that emerges from the relationships.
We recognize that building bridges is about investing in long-term impact.
We don’t measure the outcomes and impact of our work in days or weeks but in years and decades. It requires a slow and steady commitment to stay in connection and relationship – even if the challenges seem overwhelming. We ground our work in the belief that people living in the experience of extreme multidimensional poverty know what they need to build the lives they deserve. We can best support their visions for their futures through deep connection.
To keep us continually focused, we follow some clear directives. These are not rules but guidance and reinforcements for our work. Our efforts are grounded in deep awareness, committed connection, and empowering relationships.
This is who we are. This is our commitment.