It wasn't long before we came to the trailhead that would answer all the questions we pondered the last few months. We started out with high hopes, full of spirit and energy. The hike into this village was primarily down hill, but it was also unforgiving. I found myself falling behind others and still others falling behind me. The trail was dense, wet, and rocky. It didn't take long for the first person to slip and it took even less for me to be next. The trail quickly drained us of energy, but it couldn't take our spirit. Somewhere near the end of the trail, when nothing could be seen through the surrounding vegetation, an uplifting sight came within view. My body was losing the battle to the mountain side. I was fatigue, sore, and out of breath. As if done on purpose -- as if someone knew it was at this point of the trail we would need a reminder, a simple primitive church appeared at a fork in the trail. The trail opened up to a clearing allowing for the sun to light up the cross affixed to the roof. This symbol served as a reminder of why I agreed to carry a heavy pack through this terrain. We pushed ahead and were rewarded by a humbling sight. Once the building, that we would make into our clinic, came into view; we were greeted by a long line of men, women and children awaiting our arrival. Our feelings of exhaustion were replaced with a sense of duty and pride.