This is Canez. It is hands-down the most simultaneously beautiful and desolate place I’ve ever seen. As we drove through the desert over the hill and saw this view, cameras all through the bus popped out of the windows so people could capture this beauty. The lake in the picture is a salt lake, and the people of Canez fish in the lake to get money for their village. All of Canez is thorns.
The people have no shade, no fresh water, no possessions, but all the hope and joy in the world. While some of the group went to build a structure to offer shade, others were a part of a medical tent. I was included in the medical group. I’d say half of the village showed up to the medical tent.
This family was one of the many reasons I will always remember Canez. This mother brought us her baby boy because he had been sick, but during our chat with her, we found out that her 3 other children are all deaf. She asked if we could find out if her baby was deaf, too. Time stood still for me a bit at that point. I panicked, I think. I was so afraid for her in that moment. We asked one of the guys in the group to come make loud noises behind the baby to see what he responded to. As the noises started, the other kids in the village began laughing at the silliness and trying to mimic the noises. The women’s deaf children sat watching us. As the baby began turning his head to the left or right to follow the noise, I started crying. I was elated that that little boy could hear. I wanted to scoop him up and kiss his little head. to shake the mom’s hand, and to hug everyone standing around. I celebrated on the inside.
The people of Canez are so beautiful, so joyful, so hopeful, and so loving. I can’t wait to go back to them someday.