Resilience

This week, I participated in a national youth forum in the south of Honduras, focusing on human rights and how to be citizen overseers – they learned how to created observatories, databases and learn how to be advocates for their youth networks.

During dinner one evening, I spoke to one of the youth, Arnaldo, a young leader who has participated in various forums and events as a representative of his community´s youth network.  At some point, he uses a tissue to wipe his eye, which I notice is tearing constantly and is scarred. 

“Is your eye ok?” I ask.

“No,” he laughs, “It’s not my eye, it’s a fake.”

He goes on to tell me that a little over a year ago he was walking down the street when he noticed that a man was following him.  After a few blocks, he started running and the man started running after him.  At the last minute before the man caught up to him, he threw his backpack (which contained his laptop and his money) over the fence of a house.  Seeing this, the man realized he wouldn’t be able to rob him of anything, and so he shot Arnaldo in the face. Arnaldo tells me he turned his head just as the shot went off, so the bullet grazed his eye and nothing else.  After many surgeries (In Guatemala and in Mexico), the result was that he needed to have his eye removed and now wears a very believable prosthesis.  The only thing that stands out is that he is missing part of his eyelid, but it is slight and only noticeable close up. 

I ask him if he is scared all the time now.  He tells me no, that in fact his friends and family are surprised at how quickly he recovered and that he doesn’t have any lingering trauma from the event. I am blown away by his matter-of-factness, and the joie de vivre that I have observed in him as he leads group activities and jokes with the other youth. 

We continue to talk.  He tells me he is the oldest of 8 children, and that he tries to set an example for his siblings.  He tells me that despite his best efforts in trying to relay the education he has received to his family, his 14 year old sister still ended up getting pregnant.  Arnaldo then tells me that half of his siblings between the ages of 15-20 have gone illegally to the states to try to make a better life.

“I can´t blame them,” he says, “After all, the situation here is very bleak.  We are lucky to find jobs, and, I mean, look at what happened to me – I was shot for basically no reason. “  He tells me it’s hard, having the family scattered and facing hardships – he himself has had to leave the family home to live with an aunt in order to continue studying. “At one point,” he said, “I was walking 2 hours every day just to get to school.”

What strikes me more than anything is how this young man, at first glance, appears carefree and exactly how you expect any young adult to act. I would never have realized the deep physical and emotional scars he has to bear, and I admit to myself that I have underestimated him, and probably many other youth before him.  I still have very little understanding of the reality of growing up Honduran, and the hard choices one must face every day. 

I am, in fact, awed by the resilience shown by Arnaldo and thousands of others, and that keeps the spark burning that there is hope for positive change.