Friday, November 16, 2012

Kindness in Peru: Guest writer, Sarah Guimond






I’m currently studying abroad in Peru. Every Friday I volunteer at Fundades, an orphanage for children in Peru. 

This Halloween my friend Benja and I made a surprise visit to the kids. These kids don’t have much and I had a feeling that the kids wouldn't go Trick-O-Treating so I went out, decorated some bags and filled them with candy, vampire teeth, and a masks. Benja and I showed up at night and shouted, “Tenemos una sorpresa para todos!” (We have a surprise for all of you!) The kids were soooo excited and thankful. It gave me such a good feeling inside to know I brought a little unexpected happiness into their day. 

These kids are by far some of the best people I have met in Peru! 

Sarita Guimond








Friday, November 9, 2012

A kind comedian: Guest writer, Eric Vega


What do you say to someone who is suffering? You know that there must be a perfect combination of words that will lift the person’s spirits, but finding them is a struggle. For me, the desire to help someone in need is almost as poweful as my ability to say the dumbest things possible.

These two traits came together stronger than ever a couple weeks ago. I was in my intro to film class a little early (because I’m responsible as hell), when the girl who usually sits next to me enters the room. As soon as I saw her, I knew she couldn’t be having a good day. Her high spirits are usually only contrasted by her short stature, but today was different. Her eyes were pink and swollen, her face expressionless. She sat next to me without a word. “This is awkward”, I thought stupidly. The room is silent, the hum of the desktops adding to the tension of the scene. It was pretty dramatic, really. I break the silence and politely ask her how she’s doing. She takes a deep breath. Uh oh. “Nothing, I’m fine.” She’s a terrible liar, but I didn’t want to push the issue. A moment passed, then she turned to me. “Can I tell you something?” Her eyes vibrated, which is a thing I didn’t know that eyes could do. She went on to explain that she had received some terrible news earlier that day. “I have HPV.” Silence. “Whoa, that sucks.” Brilliant, Vega. That must have really put the situation in perspective for her. 

She’s on the verge of sobbing. I could hear noise being choked back in her throat. She told me that she was a first quarter transfer student and didn’t have any friends at SCAD. Her boyfriend back home had called her to tell her the news. Apparently he had contracted the virus before the two of them had started dating and just never knew about it. No more holding back. She was full on sobbing. 

At this point people start to enter the room. I didn’t know what to do. Here was this perfectly sweet girl in front of me who had just received life changing news. All I wanted to do was help, but it seemed hopeless. Maybe she has the right to be hopeless, to be angry. Anyone would be. Still, I had this overwhelming desire to make her smile again. So I did what I do best. I said something stupid.

“On the scale of worst things that could happen to you, this is actually pretty low. It’s something that’s only going to come up in very specific situations. Hell, it’s basically an annoyance more than anything else. It’s not going kill you. It’s like your vagina has diabetes.” The full absurdity of that last statement hit me far too late. This girl is going to hate me. I couldn’t have insulted her condition more. Damn it, Vega. 

She laughed. Full out, uncontrollable laughter erupted from this tiny person. All traces of stress seemed to melt off her face. She told me that I was right, and that she felt a lot of comfort in knowing that this was a manageable condition. The rest of the class was filled with witty banter and not paying attention to the professor. 

It may sound corny, but I truly believe that laughter is the best medicine. Other than medicine, maybe.

A quick kind lift


Most of the grocery stores where I live are a bajillion miles away aaaaand I don't have a car. So, I tend to do all of my shopping at the convenient store in my apartment complex. Oakwood Apartments is a maze of millions of identical buildings. I happen to live in the one farthest away from the convenient store. Womp, womp. This tends to make my grocery walk fairly miserable as I attempt to keep all of the bags in my arms, not let the eggs get cracked, or the ice cream melt. Last week I was puttering down the road, bogged down by my heavy bags, and this nice maintenance worker offered me a ride to my building! A bunch of his co-workers had passed me, but he chose to stop. His name was Angel, how fitting haha. Any who, his small choice made a world of a difference for me that afternoon. For once my ice cream didn't have to re-freeze, I didn't crack an egg, and my back wasn't covered in sweat. All thanks to an Angel in a golf cart.